When Hunting Monsters
by magicalwrit3r
Summary: Sirius leaves Harry a dangerous gift that has many unintended consequences. Harry's summer takes a turn for the worse as he finds himself toeing the line between being the hunter and becoming what he hunts in this struggle not to lose himself to the abyss
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters**_

**Prologue**

"Harry… Sirius wanted you to have this," Remus said, handing Harry a very worn brown trunk covered with chips and dents, and bearing the Gryffindor emblem along with the humorous initials _S.O.B _on the front. Harry looked questioningly into Remus' amber eyes, which seemed devoid of everything but grief. He noticed the pallid tone of his skin, the way it seemed to be stretched across his face making him look quite gaunt, and how his long, prematurely gray hair appeared very unkempt and dirty. They were standing away from the rest of the Order present; Remus having pulled him aside to deliver the last gift Sirius would ever give him.

It being the middle of the day, Kings Cross was very full at the moment. A few passersby cast curious glances in their direction, perhaps thinking a drug deal or something else suspicious was going on. It wouldn't be too out of place. Looking around at the dirty floor; the few homeless men with whiskey bottles slumped against the wall, and the trendy teens with their dyed mohawks and spiked bracelets, Harry was sure things of such sordid nature happened here frequently. However he imagined such things taking place in the cover of darkness instead of broad daylight.

He looked back into Remus' eyes before taking the trunk into hands and then setting it on the ground next to his own trunk and Hedwig's cage.

"Thanks Professor Lupin... err... what, exactly, is in it?" Harry said running a hand through his hair and looking down, trying to keep the tears from forming in his eyes.

"Well… first of all I'm not your professor anymore, and the simple answer is that I don't know," a frustrated grimace stole over Remus' face. "Sirius wouldn't tell me, as much as I tried to persuade him, but I do have my suspicions. I believe he included a variety of things of which he thought you would find quite…. _useful_."Remus whispered. He threw a subtle glance towards Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody, whose spinning eye was targeted directly on them from across the station, despite the fact he was busy threatening Harry's Uncle Vernon. Harry could see even from a distance that the usual abundance of color was absent from his Uncle's flabby face, and, if not for his grim mood, would have been amused at his cousin Dudley's attempt to hide his bulky frame behind his aunt Petunia's rail thin one.

"But I don't understand, how did Sirius know he was going to die? Was he sick, why didn't he tell me?" Anger slipped into Harry's tone which Remus picked up on. His eyes seemed to glow as his features twisted into a sneer, and he almost seemed to growl at Harry when he spoke

"No Harry, Sirius had no idea he was going to die, and he wasn't sick. I assure you if that were the case you would have been of the first to know! No, he had been planning on giving this to you today, but seeing as his attempt to rescue you ended _with his death_, I am here in his place."

Remus had leaned very close to Harry during his rant, bending down so that their eyes were level. Their noses were but inches apart. Harry backed up slightly, startled at the ferocity emanating off of his old professor. The beast that the man always tried to keep so well hidden was evident; the grief caused by his friend's death had clearly worn away at his self control.

"I'm sorry, I'm not mad at Sirius. It's just that, with everything that's happened, I haven't had good control of my emotions the past few days." Harry said, overcome with guilt and shame. He had exploded on Remus the same way he had with Dumbledore. What was wrong with him?

Remus' features seemed to soften, "It's alright Harry, I understand. I also find myself not so stable at the moment, so forgive me my temper." Remus looked around and noticed that Alastor was starting toward them, probably having seen Remus' little display. Remus knew the old, grizzled, paranoid Auror had never trusted him because of what he was, perhaps rightly so. Werewolves were feared and hated for a reason after all. "It's time for you to join your relatives Harry. However, before you go, I would advise you to use extreme caution and excellent judgment with whatever is contained inside this trunk. Having known Sirius for a long time, I'm certain there are things contained within that you shouldn't explore without the supervision of a more experienced wizard." Remus looked one last time into Harry's eyes, and Harry saw the dead seriousness in them. Remus then straightened up, cleared his throat and smiled before giving his shoulder an affectionate parting squeeze, "Well, I'll see you later in the Summer Harry. Be sure to write if you need anything and please, for Merlin's sake, try not to get yourself in any danger this time." Harry smirked as Remus walked away.

"I never try to Professor!" He shouted after him. Remus turned and gave him a final grin before slipping back through the barrier. Harry figured it was probably to disapparate, not wanting a confrontation with Moody. The Auror was close now, the magical eye he was so known for looked away from where the werewolf had disappeared and cast a suspicious glance at the battered trunk Remus had handed Harry. The mouth on his ruined jigsaw face curved briefly into a frown, his magical eye whirring madly, before he placed a hand behind Harry's back and nudged the young wizard in the direction from whence he had plunked over from.

"Com' on Potter, the muggles be waiting for ya."

"Oh, joy."

And so began the sixteeth summer of Harry Potter's life.

*****

AN:

Thank you RuneNeko for beta reading this


	2. Chapter 1: Following Footsteps

DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Harry Potter.

_**

* * *

When Hunting Monsters**_

_Chapter 1: Following Footsteps_

* * *

A groan and a thud was heard in the smallest bedroom in Number Four Privet Drive as Harry threw the book he was holding away from him. He suddenly got up off his bed; the springs in the mattress protesting noisily. For the life of him, Harry could not understand what the author was prattling on about. All he knew was that it involved what looked like Celtic runes and applying them to different rituals. It was a very old book, the little English it contained were anecdotes written in the corners and the bottoms of the pages. They had obviously been added long after the original copy had been written.

Upon returning to Privet Drive that afternoon, Harry had immediately rushed Hedwig and his two trunks to his room, not saying a word to the Dursleys who had, in turn, been strangely quiet the whole car ride to Surrey. Harry knew though, that it was too much to hope for that Moody's threats would keep his relatives docile for the whole summer. It was entirely likely that in a week or two Vernon would completely forget about the terrifying wizard in the bowler hat and return to his previous ways. Because of this, Harry knew he would only have a short amount of time to go through what his godfather left him, and proceeded to do so, despite Remus' warnings.

In the trunk he had found some curiously titled books, an assortment of potions, a bowl with strange carvings and a small dagger. Harry felt very depressed, having expected a letter or some form of communication from Sirius. He had certainly been anticipating something much more exciting than a few musty old books, and potions, though the dagger gave him a very direct sense of unease and foreboding. He had picked up the first book in the pile titled something he couldn't pronounce in Celtic and '_The Celtic Compendium__' _in English below that. He had spent the last several hours trying to work his way through it, hardly noticing the sun being swallowed by the inky blackness of night nor the sounds of his relatives as they progressed through their usual dining and bathing routines. Except for Dudley of course, who bathed very irregularly.

The book had been utterly frustrating and in six hours, Harry had not made it past the first ten pages. Runes was something he admittedly knew nothing about. Hermione was the one who took all these weird pointless classes, not him. So why on earth would Sirius want him to have this? All the book was to him was a bunch of squiggly lines and formulas that didn't make sense. With the desperate thought that maybe one of the other books would help him out, Harry quit his pacing on his dirty wood floor and bent down, rifling through the trunk. He hastily pulled out a vial containing a thick red potion that nearly broke with a loud clink against the trunk's lid, a book titled '_Dueling with the Dark Arts: Break your opponent'_,which Harry frowned at for a second before putting it down, and finally a nondescript, very worn, brown journal that had neither title nor markings on the cover.

He sat down at his desk and opened the journal, and found, to his bemusement, that the first page was completely blank. Rifling through the rest of pages showed that they were also quite similarly blank, except for a few smudges of ink and dirt placed sporadically throughout. This brought back unpleasant memories of the diary he had found in second year that ended up containing the memories and personality of a burgeoning sixteen year old Lord Voldemort. Perhaps this journal was of the same nature?_ No_, Harry thought. _Sirius wouldn't leave me something that dangerous. But maybe it works in a similar fashion._

Harry scrambled over to his desk and pulled out a muggle biro from a drawer before scrawling a messy _**hello**_ onto the first page, only to find out his efforts to write on it were futile as nothing was showing up. He checked the ink in the biro by scribbling on his hand, there was indeed ink, and tried again to write on the page. Nothing again, except for slight indentations on the page where had written.

The gears in Harry's mind turned as Harry brainstormed for a reason as to why Sirius would leave him a blank book. However it made as much sense as leaving him a book of runes he couldn't read, maybe Sirius had meant to write a message in it but couldn't manage it before he died. _Or maybe_, thought Harry, his eyes lighting up with renewed hope, _the journal is like the Marauder's Map and requires a password_.

Harry grabbed his wand from his bed and tapped it on the first page of the open blank journal.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good!" He shouted with excitement and watched as the book shone with a bright light and then a title began scrawl itself in a loopy manner across the first page

_**The Marauder's guide to the Animagus Transformation**_

_**By Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs**__  
_

Harry quickly turned the first page, eager to reveal the secrets the marauders had hidden within. As soon as the page was turned more script began to work its way across the page, although in a much more readable manner.

_**This guide is designed for future generations of marauders, specifically those who wish to completely fulfill the marauder legacy by becoming Animagi. Take heed that the process we underwent was extremely dangerous and has the benefit of being untraceable by the Ministry, but possesses the downside of being completely illegal and in no way registrable. This is because even the end results of the modern Animagus transformation are greatly different from the process detailed within, which happens to be a series of ancient Celtic rituals that don't require any wand waving (in case you happen to be in a place where doing so would attract ministry attention) but are very painful and complicated. It took Messrs. Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail five years to gain the required understanding of Celtic Ogham, and rituals in general, to attempt this feat of wizardry but since we've compiled the long years of research, trial, and error into a polished step by step procedure it should take you much less time. To complete the process you'll need an encyclopedia that has detailed Celtic ritual formulas and diagrams, since there's not really enough space in this journal. It shouldn't be too hard to find one, we recommend **_'_The Celtic Compendium__by__Cernunnos Cocidius_'_**. There is no English in it since it's dated back to the 4**__**th**__** century B.C. and there's not many copies of it, but it's popular among Celtic scholars, and should be easily ordered at Flourish and Blotts. It has all the necessary runes and formulas that the marauders spent ages looking for and the guide will show you how to locate and use the right ones. Good luck! – Messr. Moony**_

Relief and excitement flooded Harry as he read, he was going to become an Animagus, and had the answers to why Sirius would leave him these seemingly random and useless objects. Sirius obviously intended to teach Harry, and have him carry on the Marauder legacy.

"Well," Harry said to the empty room, "I should at least honor the man's last wishes."

* * *

Harry spent the remainder of the night reading through the journal, and attempting to memorize every Celtic character needed. It turns out there was a great deal of them, and the process, Harry learned, was somewhat horrific. The diagram he had been directed to in the compendium showed the sketch of characters covering the whole back and front of a body, and then listed every one. The guide, in turn, provided the correct sequence for applying them, and the potion to make the 'ink'. It ended up being one of the potions in the trunk, mixed with his hair and blood. It was the method for tattooing the Ogham characters, though that was particularly ghastly. It involved carving the strange symbols all over his body, which explained the presence of the five blood replenishing potions in the trunk, and then pouring the mixture carefully into the cuts, again in sequence. If anything in the process was not done in the correct sequence the results could be anything from losing his magic, to having all his skin burnt off.

The formulas for determining which characters to use were extremely complex but the guide tried to simplify it as much as possible. Basically since the transformation is a very individual thing, the characters to use of course, vary by person. Since the runes were Celtic the animals available were pretty much limited to ones you could find in Europe. One determined which runes to put in what location by things like the date of your birth, your name, what you've accomplished in your life, tragedies that have taken place and everything else that's of any influence to a person's personality. These runes when carved, linked, and inked in the right order would connect a wizard to their animal form during the ritual which he would also have to memorize. This was all of course, very daunting to young Harry, but he was determined to follow in the footsteps of his father and godfather. And so read, and read, and read until the sun was again shining through his moth eaten drapes, and Aunt Petunia banged loudly on his door.

"Boy, get up! I'll not be having food I cooked go cold because you want to lay about all morning! Get down here and eat your breakfast this instant!" She shouted, banging on his door all the while. Harry had locked it so none of his relatives could walk in and see the contents of Sirius' trunk strewn about the room.

"Er... yes Aunt Petunia, I'll be down in a second," was Harry's startled reply. Petunia never made breakfast. Had Moody really scared them that much? He grinned to himself as the thought of a summer full of subservient Dursleys popped in his head, before hastily tidying his room a little, putting the two books he had been studying underneath his floorboard, and heading downstairs to a breakfast at the Dursleys that he, for once, had not cooked himself.

The clinks of knives against marmalade jar and the scrapes of forks against plates filled Harry's ears along with the disgusting noises of his Uncle and cousin chewing, and the awkward silence that permeated the room. Everyone's eyes were very obviously avoiding Harry, and Harry's own were busy studying the patterns in a tablecloth that was already familiar to him. He looked up as Uncle Vernon cleared his throat.

"Hermm, boy, we've got some news," Vernon said straight to the point. He was that kind of man after all. Vernon scrutinized his freakish nephew's face, the dark circles under his eyes and the unkempt hair. His baggy shirt and jeans hung off him like he was a scarecrow. It didn't even cross Vernon's mind that the clothes were entirely his fault. _It's disgusting, _thought Vernon._ Couldn't the boy at least try to make himself look presentable? _Vernon cleared his throat again and looked his nephew in the eyes, noticing the irritation that suddenly appeared, and the lack of curiosity they displayed. This made Vernon very indignant indeed.

"Your aunt and I," he gestured with his hands, as if Harry needed clarification of who his aunt was, "are going on a…. business trip. I have a very important meeting to attend to in Paris about opening a new factor..." the boy zoned out again and looked down at his plate. "Boy! Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Vernon felt the vein in his temple throb.

The boy's head shot back up and a glare was evident on his face. _That's better,_ Vernon thought. _A__t least he's paying attention. _

"Sorry. I was thinking about something, got a little distracted," Harry said in a half-hearted attempt at an apology. It was the truth. He couldn't get what he had spent all night studying out of his head. He watched as Vernon sputtered and his face turned red, before he calmed down again.

"As I was saying. We're leaving. That is, Petunia and I, Dudley is staying here." Petunia's face looked like she was sucking on a lemon at this news, it was clear how she felt about leaving her precious Dudders in the company of her filthy freakish nephew. Dudley of course wasn't really paying attention, being rather more interested in his food.

"Why is Dudley staying here?" Asked Harry, actually curious.

"He's got a boxing tournament in London next week. You're to stay out of his way so he can train, you understand, boy?" Vernon asked, his mustache quivering with menace.

"My name is Harry. Or Potter. Not boy," Said Harry, his upper lip curled in a sneer. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so antagonistic today.

"Fine… _Potter," _Vernon spat, bits of egg and sausage spraying onto the tablecloth. "Just stay out of Dudley's way and don't touch anything in the house."

Harry nodded his head. Vernon grunted. Petunia sniffed in a disdainful fashion. Dudley chewed. The news played on the telly on the kitchen bar, emphasizing the awkward silence between Harry and his relatives. He wondered if the Order knew they were leaving. He concluded it didn't really matter.

"How long are you going to be gone?" Harry asked, getting up from the table, and carrying his dishes to the sink, the picture of a beach ball like a five year old Dudley staring at him from the counter.

"A few weeks. Hopefully, one of _your lot_ will have come to collect you by then." Vernon said '_your lot' _in the same tone he used to talk about politicians he didn't particularly care for.

Harry didn't say anything in reply and headed back to his room to read more of the Marauder's journal. The day passed like this and sometime around noon Harry heard Petunia giving Dudley a tearful goodbye, and Vernon telling Dudley to 'make him proud'. They didn't bother coming upstairs to say goodbye to Harry, and Harry didn't bother going downstairs to say goodbye to them. He reveled in his silent room, except for Hedwig's hoots, and then remembered Vernon was gone so there was no need to keep her in the cage.

"Hey girl, guess what?" Harry said to his owl, grinning as he approached the cage. "The idiots are gone so I can let you fly around all over my room. You can even shit on the floor if you want, I don't care. We should be at the Weasley's or at Grimmauld Place by the time they get back. Just don't shit on the books please."

Hedwig just let an excited hoot out in response, and Harry let her out, watching as she took off and flew a few laps around the ceiling before coming back to perch on his shoulder.

"Alright Hedwig, you can stay there but try to be quiet because I have to memorize a bunch of stuff." Harry said, sitting back on the bed with his books. Except now, he had a biro and paper to practice drawing the runes with.

* * *

A few days passed like this, and Harry didn't come out of his room except to make and eat quick meals. He felt like he was making slow but steady progress. The complicated lines and patterns of the runes were finally sticking in his head and the formulas were starting to make sense. He had already figured out some of the runes he'd need to use, and had figured where a couple would go. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage to carve them on his back though without making a mistake. It'd probably be a good idea to practice first, with a biro or something. But he needed a break from studying in general. Harry felt that if he were to attempt to cram any more knowledge into his head at the moment, it would explode. And so, he decided to go for a walk.

Harry noticed Dudley wasn't in his room as he walked down the hallway to the stairs. He was probably at the gym or smoking with Piers. Harry wasn't sure how Dudley managed to box with the amount he smoked but then again, he could never figure out how Dudley even managed to move around with his walrus-like figure.

_The Agapanthus look like they're withering_, Harry thought as he made his way out the front door. But then what wasn't? It was getting dark now, but during the day the heat made Surrey feel like a desert. The restriction on water didn't really help the flowers lifespan. Harry looked up and noticed a figure in the distance, running towards him. Surprised, he took his wand out of his back pocket and hid it behind his leg, waiting for his cheap glasses to give him a better image of this potential Death Eater. Part of Harry hoped it really was one.

_It's Dudley, _Harry thought, surprised, as the figure got closer. Dudley and running seemed like a paradox, but there he was pounding the pavement.

_He is starting to slim down a bit, _thought Harry, wondering why he hadn't noticed before.

"Hey Big D! What'chya up to?" Harry asked as Dudley came closer. He was panting and had his hands on knees as he stopped and took a breath.

"What does it look like Potter? I'm running," Dudley said still panting between words

"I know. I'm impressed. Never thought I'd see the day where you actually did something physically challenging," said Harry cheekily.

"Shove off Potter!" Dudley's face was murderous as he stomped his way back inside. Harry laughed to himself and decided to head back in too, he had a long enough break.

Tonight Harry decided to study something a bit different. He needed to vary what he was shoving in his mind so he wouldn't burn out. He pulled out the book on dark curses Sirius had left him, although he still wasn't sure why.

_Maybe Sirius just wanted me to know what I was up against, _Harry thought. That did seem like a plausible reason.

For a few hours Harry became increasingly disgusted at the effects of the spells in the book, like the entrail expelling curse, or one curse that turned a person's eyeballs into acid, which in turn dissolved the rest of their face. But he committed the wand movements and incantations to memory; at least he would know when a Death Eater was throwing one at him. He was reluctant to admit it, but he felt a bit of excitement at the thought of using these curses on Death Eaters themselves. Such thinking reminded Harry of the prophecy that sat like a weight in his gut, and the events at the Ministry. He recalled the horror as he watched Sirius fall through the veil, the amazement at Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel, and what it had felt like to be possessed. _Perhaps, _Harry thought bitterly, _things would have gone smoother if I could duel like Dumbledore. _The things Dumbledore had done during the duel had been pretty wicked.

_Perhaps you could be like Dumbledore, _thought a voice in Harry's head. _You just don't work hard enough. Like Snape says, you're lazy, arrogant, and mediocre. _Was that really it; him not applying himself? Could he really learn to duel like that? Well why not, he had learned the Patronus charm in third year. Harry decided right then that he was going to hunt down and kill the monster that called itself Voldemort, and do everything possible to prepare himself. He would make the Dark Lord and his followers suffer for destroying his life, for landing him with the Dursleys, for taking away Sirius. Harry felt the anger bubbling in his stomach, just under his skin, squeezing his chest. The glass of water sitting on his desk began to rattle and Hedwig let out an undignified, alarmed squawk. He forced himself to calm down. It wouldn't do to get another letter from Malfada Hopkirk.

He wondered what spell Dumbledore used to animate the statues in the ministry. That looked like something he thought he could maybe pull off. In charms class they had done pretty much the same thing except with smaller objects, and making them dance across their desks.

Harry let out a yawn and realized how tired he was. He decided he should probably get some sleep, it wasn't like he'd be able to learn anymore in this state.

* * *

It was another week before Harry felt he was ready to start practicing drawing the runes on his body. He had spent the last seventy-two hours meticulously drawing them on paper, over and over, and memorizing the chant he'd need to recite after carving them. Whenever he needed a break he would go through the book of dark curses, and his old schoolbooks. Particularly he'd reread his charms and transfiguration texts as he was developing more of an interest in them. After taking a closer look at the theory behind animation charms, Harry figured that Dumbledore must have used a much more advanced version than the one they had been taught. It would have to have been more advanced to allow that kind of manipulation of objects that size. Hopefully they'd learn it this year, or else he'd look it up in the library. Hermione would probably want to help.

On a few occasions Harry had even joined Dudley on his runs, who had shown that he'd stay quiet and not insult Harry as long as Harry refrained from insulting him. It felt bizarre to be around Dudley for any length of time without some abusive verbal or physical exchange, but he also thought it was kind of nice.

Late one evening, Harry stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom completely nude after he had spent an hour in the shower removing any body hair that would get in the way, including the hair on his head, and even his eyebrows. He looked so strange, a completely different person. The runes on his face and in some other areas would be much thinner and barely noticeable, but it was necessary for them to connect over his whole body. He ran a hand over his smooth head, marveling about how strange it felt. He didn't like the way his baldness reminded him of Voldemort. With a shudder and the urge to puke, he recalled Voldemort's rebirth in the graveyard, how the Dark Lord had been so interested in his new body. He had run his hands over his head, his face, much the way Harry had just done.

_It doesn't mean anything, _Harry thought. _Just a coincidence. _

He took a hesitant breath and brought the biro to his chest. It took five minutes to finish the first rune, which thankfully turned out perfect, and at least five to ten minutes for the rest of the runes belonging on his face, arms, chest and stomach. He finished his feet and started on his back.

"Fucking hell!" Harry cursed as he realized there was no way he'd be able to do this by himself. Even with the aid of the mirror, he still couldn't draw the runes on his back accurately with a biro, how the bloody hell would he manage it with a knife? Harry knew he needed assistance, but who was there besides Dudley?

_Oh dear god, _Harry thought. _I'm going to have to ask Dudley. _He cast a scornful glance at the messed up squiggles on his back in the mirror, before throwing on his clothes and looking for Dudley who didn't prove hard to find.

"Er... what'd you do your hair?" Asked a confused Dudley from the recliner in his room

"I, uh, shaved it. Look, that's not important. I, um, have a favor I need to ask you." Harry said uncomfortably. Dudley got the most interesting expression on his face, and if Harry had to describe it, he'd say it looked like a mixture between constipation and Aunt Marge's dog Ripper trying very hard to think.

"Oh. Um, well, what's the favor?" Dudley asked, fidgeting in his seat.

"I need you to carve some runes into my body," Harry said bluntly.

"WHAT THE BLOODY-" Dudley exclaimed, only to be interrupted.

"Wait! That didn't come out right! There's an evil wizard who's chasing me right? Doing this will let me turn into an animal so I can avoid him, and give me an edge when I have to fight him." Harry tried to explain. Dudley looked very squeamish and still confused.

"So you want me to cut freakish signs into your body? Won't that hurt?" Dudley asked

"Of course it will, but I've been through worse." Dudley looked doubtful. "Really, I have. There's this spell called the Cruciatus Curse that makes you feel like you're being stabbed with thousands of hot knives. But anyway, I really need your help, there's no one else who can help me do this," Harry pleaded.

Dudley looked like he was going to throw up now. Harry could see he wasn't getting anywhere with him and gave up.

"Nevermind Dudley. I don't why I had the crazy idea you might be able help me out anyway." Harry started to walk out of the room.

"No, uh! Wait!" Dudley yelped, finally finding his voice. Harry turned around raising a questioning eyebrow. "I owe you, so I guess if this is how I can repay you, I'll... do it." Dudley said quietly.

"What are you talking about Dudley? You don't owe me anything."

"Yes I do. Those Demento thingies. Mum said I wouldn't have a soul if you hadn't of done your magic." This really surprised Harry. Petunia told him that? Wow.

"Well, hopefully, you would've done the same for me, but if it gets you to help me, you can consider us even if you do this." Harry smiled.

Dudley gave an uneasy smile back before getting up and following Harry to his room.

Harry, of course, had to teach Dudley the runes and how to draw them which ended up taking another week. Dudley wasn't much of an artist and got frustrated very quickly, so to placate him, Harry allowed frequent breaks during which the boys would go running. Dudley even managed to convince Harry to spar with him. Surprisingly Dudley didn't go out of his way to beat the crap out of the smaller boy, and Harry managed to pick up a few things. Harry ended up spending whatever time he wasn't spending studying, training with Dudley and helping him to get ready for his tournament. He felt like it was a fair trade for what Dudley was going to do. Carving anything into someone's flesh couldn't be much fun, unless you had the disposition of Lord Voldemort, which Harry knew Dudley didn't have despite his bullying tendencies.

Before either of the teens knew it, it was Friday, and almost time for Dudley to get picked up by Piers and Mrs. Polkiss who were going to take Dudley to London. Both boys were sitting in the yard enjoying the little bit of relaxation time they had before Dudley had to leave.

"I'd go and watch your matches Big D, but I'm not sure Mrs. Polkiss would appreciate me tagging along." Harry said, plucking a few blades of grass.

"Aw, it's alright. I doubt you could tolerate Piers for two days without hexing him into a cockroach or something." Dudley said jokingly, punching Harry in the shoulder. Harry shook his head in wonder at how drastically things had changed between him and his cousin. A year ago the word magic would have sent Dudley into a panic attack, and any mention of a hex would either have him running to Petunia or swinging his fists at Harry.

"Ya, I imagine that wouldn't be much fun," Harry grinned. "So you'll be getting back tomorrow night?"

"Ya, and I can help you with your… thing as soon I get back." A look of discomfort passed over Dudley's face before vanishing.

Harry looked Dudley in the eyes, noticing the hesitance in them.

"Are you sure you want to Dudley? I know I begged you and all that, but I don't feel right making you do something like this." Maybe it'd be better if he waited until Remus could help him.

"No, it's fine. I mean, of course I don't really want to. I'm not really looking forward to all the blood and all, but I do want to help you. I meant what I said before." Resolve like steel was in Dudley's tone and Harry gained a little more respect for him.

"Alright Dud, but if you change your mind, it's fine."

"I won't, but here comes Mrs. Polkiss, you'd better get inside." They both spotted a beige minivan making its way down the street, and got up off the ground, brushing the dead grass off their jeans.

"Ok, Big D, I'll see you Saturday night. Good luck!" Harry said, giving Dudley a slap on the back and heading back up the steps and into the house. He watched through the parlor window as Dudley got in the car, with his bag full of boxing gear, and rode off.

* * *

Waiting for his cousin to get back to Number Four Privet Drive turned out to be hell. Ten minutes hadn't passed before Harry was in room pacing, the dirty wood floor squeaking as Harry walked across it in his worn trainers. Hedwig was staring at him. _Hedwig... I haven't written to the Order, or Hermione, or Ron, or anyone! _Thought Harry in shock. He hurriedly grabbed a sheet of paper off his desk, knocking over an ink bottle, the contents running and dripping off the old, uneven desk onto the floor.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed as he mopped up the ink with an old shirt. He then grabbed a biro, jotting a quick note to the Order letting them know he was alright, although he was sure they already knew that. If Mundungus' loud snoring, his stench from not bathing and copious amounts of firewhisky were anything to go by, the Order was definitely watching him.

_Probably why they haven't owled me_, Harry thought. He was pretty sure he'd spotted a few of the other members too. On occasion while he was outside with Dudley he'd spot, for a second, what looked like a foot, or hair and perhaps hear breathing or footsteps. However, not one of them had attempted to contact Harry. He wrote a few more letters to Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville, asking them how their summers were going so far. He didn't dare tell any of them about what he was studying, before tying them all to Hedwig's leg.

"Alright girl, that's one to the Order, one to Hermione, one to Ron, one to Neville, and one to Luna. You got that?" Hedwig gazed at him balefully before nipping his hand and taking off through the open window. Hedwig wouldn't be back for a while with everything she had to deliver, which left Harry with nothing to do, except studying.

He threw himself back into his books, memorizing wand motion upon wand motion, and incantation upon incantation, desperate not to give his mind any time to think or reflect. Was it the image of Sirius falling through the veil, the horrible feeling of having all your hopes for a family, and for happiness crushed in a single instant that Harry was running from? Probably. But it didn't matter. He was getting things done one way or another, and he was finally, for once in his career as a wizard, putting some real effort into his magical study.

This was not a summer he'd spend laying in his bed and staring at the spider-web like cracks in his ceiling.

************

AN:

Thanks RuneNeko for Beta reading this


	3. Chapter 2: Flight of Humanity

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

_**

* * *

When Hunting Monsters **_

**Chapter 2: Flight of Humanity **

* * *

Saturday night found Harry sitting impatiently in his rickety chair at his battered desk. He had the guide and the rune book laid out before him, making sure his preparations were perfect. He had spent the whole day organizing his room for the event, flipping his bed on its side and pushed it against the wall. All the junk on the floor had been shoved in his small cupboard or placed in his trunks until there was a large circular clear space in the middle of the room. The guide had told him to draw a circle of interlocking runes on the floor using a stick of what looked like grayish chalk. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was made of.

He had also, again, had to shave the stubble of hair that had grown all over his body, making sure to leave enough to mix the potion later, and had redrawn the runes. The marauders had suggested this since regular ink had no magic and wouldn't affect the ritual, but it would make it infinitely easier to carve the runes. He was still waiting on Dudley though to do the ones for his back.

At five after nine, Harry heard a car pull up outside Number Four Privet Drive. He jumped out of his chair and raced towards his window, careful not to step on the chalked symbols. Harry pulled the curtain back and ascertained that it was indeed Dudley being dropped off by Mrs. Piers. He saw Dudley walk up to the front door, his bag slung over his shoulder. A few moments later, he heard Dudley's footsteps pounding up the stairs. Harry stepped out of his room to greet him.

"Dudley, you're finally back! How'd you do?" Harry asked as Dudley reached the top of the stairs. Dudley seemed slightly surprised at seeing Harry waiting for him, but the grin he was wearing got bigger.

"I did great! Didn't lose any matches and got a trophy to show for it!" He exclaimed, proudly hefting a large golden trophy for Harry's inspection. It was topped with a golden boxing glove and at its base bore the words 'London Champion Youth Heavyweight Division 1996'.

Harry whistled. "Wow, good job Dudley! I knew you'd do well with how much you've put in to all the training. Looks like it really paid off." If anything, Dudley's grin got bigger.

"So what do you say we go ahead and get this thing done? I've been thinking about it since I left." Dudley asked, surprising Harry with his eagerness.

"Um, alright, let's go put your stuff in your room first. Actually, hold on, I should probably put my things in your room too, in case my animal form decides to wreak havoc." Dudley looked nervous at this possibility. Harry walked back in his room and grabbed both his trunks, which he had packed his things in to provide some space.

Harry returned to his room and saw Dudley sitting at his desk, the dagger in his hand and a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked up as Harry entered.

"You must really hate this Voldemort guy to willingly go through all this huh?" Dudley asked, gesturing to the knife now in his lap, and the sheets of runes they'd soon be carving.

"He killed my parents Dudley," said Harry, walking into the middle of the circle and turning around to face his cousin. "He's also responsible for my godfather's death, and has made it his mission in life to make mine miserable since I was eleven. However much this is going to hurt, I'm confident that the pleasure I'll get if it helps me kill him will be tenfold greater." Harry said vehemently, a dark look on his face.

"I suppose I'd feel the same way," said Dudley. "So how are we going to do this?"

"Well first, I'm going to have you draw the runes on my back," Harry said pulling off shirt. "Then I'm going to carve the ones I can reach. You're going to take over for the ones I can't, and the ones on my face." Dudley picked up the biro and the sheets of runes.

"These ones right?"

"Ya, those ones. Let's get started." Harry said, done disposing of his clothes.

Dudley felt kind of sick at seeing his cousin naked. The boy obviously didn't eat enough. Shaved of hair, he looked very much like a skeleton with pale skin stretched tight against very apparent bones. Dudley could count eighteen of his ribs.

_How in the ruddy hell did he keep up with the training? _Dudley asked himself. _And why is he starving himself like that? Is he that bent over his godfather? That must be it._

Dudley stepped into the circle, pushing his thoughts aside, and got to work.

The biro against Harry's skin felt very different then when he drew on himself. He closed his eyes, attempting to mentally preparing himself for the pain that would be coming.

It took about an hour for Dudley to finish the runes, but they did want them perfect as he'd be using them for a guideline later.

"Alright, all done." He said, putting the biro and the sheets back on Harry's desk.

"Sweet, let's get to the fun part," Harry joked. Dudley frowned and handed him the dagger. For the first time, Harry noticed the runes swirling around it and how incredibly sharp the blade was.

He winced as he slid the dagger through the skin on his chest. He twitched and fought the automatic reaction to jerk the knife away. Blood welled up in the cut and dribbled down his stomach before spattering onto the floor. He continued cutting for a long while, taking frequent pauses to collect himself, as the small puddle of blood on the floor grew. The pain was unbearable, and Harry started feeling thankful that he had experienced the torture curse before. If he hadn't he probably wouldn't be able to push himself through this now.

When he got to his legs he was starting to feel quite dizzy and lightheaded.

"Dudley, could you hand me one of those red vials on the desk?" His cousin had been watching the spectacle in horror, unable to look away.

"En... ya sure," Dudley said, handing the vial to Harry. He flinched as some of Harry's blood dripped down the boys arm and onto his hand.

Harry's legs took some time and another blood replenishing potion to complete.

"Your turn now, Dudders!" He gave Dudley a false grin and handed him the dagger.

"Uh, hold on. Maybe we should tie you to the chair or something. I'm not gonna be able to keep the knife steady if you keep twitching like that." Dudley said, picking up the chair and placing it in the middle of the circle, careful not to step in the puddle of his cousin's blood.

"Actually, that sounds like a good idea. You mind grabbing a few of my old shirts from the cupboard? I don't trust myself to walk around right now, but you can use those to tie me." Dudley did as instructed and tore the shirts into long strips.

Harry straddled the chair so his back was accessible and let out a groan of pain as the strip Dudley was binding him with dug into the cuts on his left wrist.

"Fuck! Sorry Harry, I didn't mean to tie it that tight," Dudley panicked.

"It's alright. It's gotta be tight anyway to keep me from moving." Harry said through clenched teeth.

Dudley looked doubtful but finished securing him. He brought the dagger to the back of his cousin's neck and made the first incision, feeling revulsion as the blade moved through his skin like it was butter, and blood started dripping down his back.

* * *

Two hours later, Dudley had finally finished his job. He had taken frequent pauses, as, if he went too long, Harry would start to jerk underneath the dagger. He had moved on to Harry's bald skull and his face after that, removing Harry's glasses. His face was definitely the hardest part. It had proved a challenging feat to keep Harry's head still. He had done his best to ignore his cousin's groans and cries of pain, but by the time Dudley was done, his hands were shaking, and he had tears in his eyes.

He quickly untied Harry and helped him to his feet. The boy's whole body now was completely covered in blood and strange symbols, even his fingertips and toes. Dudley handed Harry another red vial and Harry gulped it down greedily.

"You look a right mess Dudders," Harry quipped in a hoarse voice, pointing out Dudley's blood stained shirt. He was attempting to keep some semblance of humor. It helped a little with the pain.

Dudley raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "Are you ready for the next part or do you need a break?" He asked.

"Well there's something we have to do first. The potion vials for the ink are on the desk, but they need to be mixed with my blood and hair in that ritual bowl." Harry gestured to the large bowl with strange carvings that he had found in the trunk. "I would've done it before hand, but the guide said it needs to be fresh. You can just stir it with my wand to mix it together."

"Alright.... I guess I can do that." Dudley grabbed a strip of the cloth he had used to tie Harry, and mopped up some of the copius amount of blood on the floor. Then he wrung the blood soaked cloth into the bowl, poured the vials of potion, and picked up Harry's wand, sticking it in the bowl and stirring until the liquid swirled into a glowing blackish green mixture.

"Does that look good?" Dudley asked, tilting the bowl so Harry could see the contents.

"Ya that looks fine."

"Do you need more time? You look pretty exhausted."

"No, no. Let's get this _bloody_ ordeal over with, I need a fuckin' shower. Besides, this part should be relatively easy."

Dudley laughed and picked up the bowl containing the blackish green potion. He brought it up over Harry's head and poured.

"Arghhh Fuckkkk!!!" Harry screamed as the potion made contact with his cuts. He was obviously wrong in his assumption that this part of the procedure would be painless. It hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced, including the Cruciatus curse. Dudley stopped pouring.

"No don't stop, get it over with!" Harry shouted at him, screwing his eyes shut at the pain. It felt like it was boring through his mind and body, and into his soul, tearing it to pieces.

Dudley reluctantly complied, even when Harry had fallen onto the ground. He didn't let him curl up into the fetal position. He had to make sure all the cuts were covered. Harry was screaming the whole time. Every time Dudley would hesitate, Harry would yell at him to keep going. He had to stop sometimes though, to reach out and grab another vial.

Despite his revulsion, Dudley was amazed at how, as soon the potion made contact with a rune, it would automatically fill it in. The rune would then begin to sizzle and smoke, the skin bubbling before it magically seemed to heal, the cuts taking on the appearance of what looked merely like strange tattoos.

Dudley was finally done, and Harry lay on his back, tracks of tears streamed down his face from when they had poured out in great measure during the inking process.

"Fuck that hurt!" Harry exclaimed, propping himself up on an elbow.

Dudley chuckled, "I don't think hurt describes what it looked like you were going through." His hands were still shaking, and he was still in shock over Harry's writhing in agony on the blood covered, wood floor.

"At least it's over with. Now the only part that's left is completing the ritual with the chant." Harry said tiredly.

"Do you need any help with that?"

"Nah. I mean, you can stay and watch if you want. Just stay out of the circle and make sure that you get out of the room when I change. It wouldn't be good if whatever animal I turn into attacks you. Oh ya, you should probably lock the door too, with all the locks, just in case."

If Harry's form was a big animal that should keep it in. He wasn't sure if he'd stay aware during the change or not. The Marauder's said they didn't, and that Sirius had tried to attack Peter the first time he had transformed.

Harry gingerly got to his knees, staying in a kneeling position. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stand if he tried. He started the chant slow and quiet but got louder and faster with every syllable that fell gracefully from his tongue. He could feel the magic in the runes resonate and build with the chant, urging him on to an ever increasing tension.

Dudley watched, feeling the magic permeating the room, as Harry continued the long chant. Suddenly, the runes all over his body began to glow; enveloping him in a swirling cocoon blue light and Harry's voice seemed filled with pain and desperation as he fell to his side. That's when everything went to hell.

Dudley backed up as his cousin started thrashing. There were loud cracks as Harry's bone snapped, and his face began to crunch and then elongate into a snout, as thick black fur began sprouting all over his body. The chant turned from almost melodious song to guttural primal growls, roars, and whines.

Harry's vision started to turn black. He couldn't take the pain anymore. The chant was almost over, and as it finished he embraced the abyss that called to him, waiting with open arms to consume him whole.

A dark monstrous creature began to get to its feet, scratching the wood floor as it scrambled to find footing and Dudley backed out of the room, stumbling in his terror. He slammed the door shut and fumbled with the locks, making sure every single one was latched. He hastily made his way to the safety of his own room before he could witness huge claws tearing through wood, and Harry's door being ripped off its hinges.

***********

AN:

Thanks to RuneNeko for beta reading this.

Please review!


	4. Chapter 3: Awaken into a Nightmare

** When Hunting Monsters**

** Chapter 3: Awaken into a Nightmare  
**

An obnoxiously normal looking gray sedan sped down the road to little whinging on its way to Privet Drive. The occupants who wished they were as normal as their car were in a rush to get home. The driver laid on his horn, clearly very annoyed at the slow moving lorry impeding his progress in front of him.

"Bloody drive faster you Ponce!" Vernon Dursley screamed, chin wobbling and spit spraying out the window as he jerked his car into the other lane and passed the poor lorry driver who was left wondering who pissed in the irate man's cereal.

"Vernon calm down please, we don't want to get in an accident," Petunia said, placing a placating hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Yes dear," Vernon mumbled under his breath, slowing down…slightly.

"Do you think he's gone yet?"

"Do I think who's gone yet?"

"_The boy_, Vernon."

"Oh. Him. He bloody better be! I'm not putting up with another day of that freak's insolence! Sixteen years Petunia, sixteen years I've tolerated him in my house, provided for him! Not anymore, you hear me?! If he's still there when we get home, He'll be packing his bags full of his freak things promptly!" Vernon ranted, wagging his sausage like finger in Petunia's face.

"VERNON SlOW DOWN!" she screeched, her eyes wide in fright.

Alarmed, Vernon turned his eyes back to the road, noticing the cones blocking the way, along with stop signs, construction signs and the bobby's car pulled to the side of the road. He quickly slammed on his breaks, sending the car skidding and his stomach into the dashboard. Petunia wasn't so lucky as she didn't have any extra padding. There was an ominous _crunch_ as her face impacted with the glove box.

"Ughh…Bernon my bose, I bink its boken," Petunia moaned clutching her face and sobbing as the car came to a stop.

"Shhh. There, there my Petunia flower. Everything will be alright," Vernon comforted his wife. "Let me take a look at it," He attempted to pry her hands away from her face.

"Noo, stob! Domb loob ab me!" Petunia was hysterical now, holding her head between her knees.

Vernon was distracted from his attempts to console his wife, as there was a tapping on the window. He looked up to see the bobby that must have been in the car. He was leaned over with his face very close to the window, a vacant expression upon it.

"Yes officer?" Vernon questioned, somewhat annoyed. Couldn't the man see he was a little preoccupied?

"Is everything alright in there?" The officer sent a concerned look at Petunia, it didn't look very sincere.

"Everything's quite fine." Vernon said curtly. "What's the holdup?

"Well there's construction going on you know. You're gonna have to wait here Sir." The bobby gestured vaguely in the distance where said construction was supposedly taking place. Vernon couldn't hear any bulldozers or machinery.

"Now see here!" Vernon shouted, puffing up like a particularly indignant bullfrog. "My wife is in need of medical attention, because of your silly cones, and I'll not have her suffer because of construction!"

"The hospital is in the other direction Mr. Dursley." The bobby grinned, his eyes seemed devoid of emotion. Like a robot.

Vernon didn't realize he knew his name, so enraged was he at the bobby mocking him.

"We'll just be going that way then. Good Day," Vernon sneered and made to roll down the window. The bobby grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Ah well I'm afraid we can't have that, now can we?" The empty grin now seemed sinister.

"What is…What's the meaning of this?!" Vernon sputtered attempting to wrench his arm away, but failing under the man's vice like grip.

The bobby pulled his gun from his holster, and Petunia, who, hearing her husband's distress, had finally looked up, let out a piercing scream.

Taking a few steps backwards, the bobby let go of Vernon and brought the gun up, aiming directly between Vernon's eyes. Even as he held the gun, ready to kill, his eyes were empty of sentience, and the dreamlike expression was still fixed upon his face.

"Goodbye Dursleys!" The last thing Petunia and Vernon heard were two gunshots as a bullet impacted with both their skulls, and the car was filled with an explosion of brain matter.

* * *

Harry awoke to the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His head reeling, he attempted to get his bearings and sit up before seeing what was laying next to him and promptly retching.

From what was left Harry could tell it was a human carcass. The throat was completely torn out and whatever had killed the person had started in on the stomach and chest. The intestines were stretched out away from the body in a slimy trail on what Harry now realized was the forest floor.

_I must be in the woods behind the neighborhood,_ he thought. _Did I do this, it must have been me. There's blood in my mouth and it's not mine. _Harry definitely knew what his own blood tasted like after having the runes carved on his face.

"_Oh god," _Harry despaired, a sinking feeling in his gut. "_I'm a murderer…and a fucking cannibal" _

He scrambled around on the forest floor, searching for anything to identify the remains of what looked to be a man. The shreds of black cloth on the man's body seemed like they had at one time been robes, and the man was clutching a wand in his hand. Harry really hoped he hadn't eaten one of the Order members who had been guarding him. That wouldn't have very positive repercussions.

Beside what was left of the carcass's head was something shiny. It was a piece of some kind of hard silver material. As he grabbed it his hand brushed away a small pile of leaves, revealing two bigger pieces. He fit them all together into a mask, one he recognized very well….. the mask of a deatheater.

Harry felt a small measure of relief that the man he had apparently eaten wasn't an innocent person, or someone he knew, but it raised several questions. The most important of which was: _What the hell is a sodding deatheater doing in Little Whinging? _

He recalled the conversation in Dumbledore's office, about how the wards his mother's love had created we're supposed to protect him from being found by deatheaters. Last summer he and Dudley had been set upon by dementors, but that was because they had been far away from the house. He was close enough now that the only way the deatheater could be here was if the wards had failed. That meant Petunia had to be dead. He wasn't sure if the wards worked for the dursley's when he wasn't near them but he knew they were tied to Petunia, so either the deatheaters managed to get to her, or she died in some kind of an accident. Either way the mauled deatheater's presence indicated Voldemort knew, and had probably sent his followers to # 4 privet drive, looking for Harry. Dudley was still there, defenseless against magic.

Harry knew he needed to get there fast, but he couldn't do it starkers. He got to his feet and almost fell over as the world spun. He was still dizzy, and just realized he was much taller than he had been before, and that he wasn't wearing glasses. His hair had also grown and was a good deal longer then it had been when he had shaved it. The ritual had to have changed his body to fit whatever his form was. The guide had mentioned that.

He shook his head clearing it of thoughts. He couldn't speculate over the transformation now, he needed a plan. Harry looked down and spotted the wand clenched in the dead man's hand. He grabbed for it and cast a summoning charm, pulling the tatters of robe off the dead body.

"Reparo! Reparo!" He shouted, fixing the robes and then the mask on the ground. It wasn't a perfect job. The robes were still splattered with blood, and somewhat torn and the mask had small fractures in it. The wand must not be responding to him as well as his own. It didn't matter; he didn't have time for perfection.

Harry pulled the robes on only to find they barely reached his shins, so he bent down and pulled off the deatheater's boots. It wouldn't do if he got seen barefoot. The cover he was planning would get blown. They at least seemed to fit alright and were actually kind of comfortable. The mask was a different story as when he attempted to put it on his face it just slid off, and didn't have any kind of strap or ties to keep it in place. How did the deatheater's wear it then?

_Oh, duh, they're wizards,_ thought Harry, and casted a sticking charm on the mask. It stayed in place this time.

For a few seconds Harry tried to determine which direction he should run in before again berating himself again for not thinking like a wizard. He knew the woods were to the east of his house, so if he could figure out where north was he'd be fine.

"Point Me," He said, laying the wand flat on his palm. It spun around a few times before settling, pointing to his left. East then, must be behind him so he started walking in that direction.

* * *

Chaos greeted Harry as he snuck through the backyard of #4 Privet Drive. He was pressed tightly to the side of the house and glaced around to the front lawn to the sight of deatheaters torturing Mundungus Fletcher. They must have just gotten there, or else they'd already be inside the house.

"If you want the pain to stop, you'll go inside and fetch ickle hawwy for me," Ordered a sickly feminine voice. Harry recognized it as bellatrix Lestrange. "Tell him that the Order's come to pick him up, and bring him out here." There were three other deatheaters standing around Mundungus in a circle, underneath the tree in the front lawn, but he couldn't tell who they were.

"He's not inside! He's not inside, please no more!" Protested the sobbing and broken form of Fletcher.

Bellatrix brought her wand up. "Well then, pray tell, where is he?"

"I don't know, I prom-"

"That's not an acceptable answer," Bellatrix said coldly. "_Crucio!" _

"_Animatus" _Harry whispered pointing the wand he had taken from the deatheater at the tree. _I hope this works _

To Mundungus' fortune it did, and the great tree came alive, shaking itself free of the ground. A long tendril of a root shot up, wrapping around Bellatrix's leg, and pulling her to the ground; sending her curse veering off course. The deatheaters, with cries of incantations, immediately set up shield charms and sent curses in different directions. Fletcher dissaparated. The pop was barely audible over the sound of dangerous magic whizzing through the air.

Harry ran out into the lawn.

"I saw him, the boy's running that way!" he shouted pointing to the woods

"Amycus why aren't you in the forest?" shouted back the only deatheater not busy dealing with the vengeful shrubbery.

"That's not Amycus, he's too tall!" shouted Bellatrix, she had finally managed to cut herself free of the root. The tree however was still attacking them.

Upon hearing bellatrix's proclamation the deatheater shot a killing curse, and Harry instinctively summoned the mailbox in front of him. With a _bang _it exploded sending shards of hot metal Harry's way. Panicked, he quickly banished them back toward's the death eater whose screams rent the air as the metal pierced his flesh, and he crumpled to the ground. With a shriek of outrage, Bellatrix twisted her wand and the mask was ripped off Harry's face. He tried to grab for it but it was too late.

The dark witch cackled "It looks like the pups grown some teeth. Wanna see how the grownups play, boy?" She fired a curse at him and he threw himself to the ground. He was glad he had ducked, as the curse sailed over his head and lit the shrub behind him on fire.

Harry got quickly to his feet, the blood pounding in his head as the cackling, advancing, witch brought forth memories of his godfather falling through the veil. He'd kill the bitch, and do it slowly.

He saw one of the deatheaters left finally take down the tree with a quick succession of reductos, and then Bellatrix whisper something to the big deatheater standing beside her. He nodded, then turned and ran into the house. Time seemed to slow down as Harry looked up where Bellatrix had gestured and saw Dudley peering through his window on the second floor.

"Drop the wand, and come with us now Potter, or your cousin dies" She said, beckoning him forward with her wand.

"DUDLEY! NO!" Harry screamed beyond reason, and full of rage. He hadn't heard what Bellatrix said, had only seen the big deatheater run into the house, after Dudley.

His entrail expelling curse sent a surprised Bellatrix, her insides being flung out in a shower of gore, flying into the fence, which broke apart upon collision. He rushed past her through the doorway, which he just now noticed had been torn apart with what looked like claw marks.

He ran up the stairs, only to be grabbed by the deatheater who had destroyed the tree. The man roughly shoved Harry into the wall, twisting his wand arm behind him, and Harry threw his weight back, sending both of them toppling down the stairs.

Furious, Harry straddled the man, and drove his fist repeatedly into the deatheater's mask. The man let out a cry of pain as pieces of it pierced into his eyes, his face, and blood gushed out until unconsciousness took him.

Harry left him there and limped up the stairs, his ankle probably twisted or broken. Upon coming to his room, he saw this door was also destroyed and Dudley was on the ground, the deatheater standing over him with his wand.

Rage, the likes of which Harry had never felt, swallowed him and he shouted out "_Depulso!" _

The banishing charm whipped the man around and slammed him into the wall with a thud, and a _crack. _Harry rushed over to Dudley who was thankfully, still alive.

"Ha-ha- harry, who is that?" Dudley asked, terrified at the man who had walked in and thrown him to the ground with magic.

"Listen Dudley, we don't have any time," Harry helped his cousin to his feet. "Death eaters are here and you need to get out, you're defenseless without magic."

"How am I going to do that, and what about you?" Dudley asked, rubbing his head.

"I think there's only one or two left, I'm not sure if I killed the one downstairs" Dudley stared at him with wide eyes, "but, I can hold them off until my friends get here. Go to your room and grab both the trunks. Inside the one with my initials, will be a cloak. Put it on and it will make you invisible. Take both the trunks and find a hotel or something, I'll send Hedwig to you when she comes back, but it's not safe here. The protection's gone which means your mum must be dead. I'm sorry."

Dudley just stared at him with shock.

"Hurry Dudley!"

The boy finally complied. As soon as he reached the hallway Harry felt a curse send him sprawling to the ground and the wand he'd been using across the room.

The deatheater had gotten up. His mask had fallen off and his brutal face was twisted in anger. The cut on his head dripped blood into his blonde hair, tinging it pink.

"You'll pay for what you did _boy_,'' The deatheater spat vehemently. "This was just supposed to be an easy mission, but you've gone and botched it up haven't you? We'll now you'll have to suffer." He flicked his wand, and a curse shot out of it Harry. He rolled and it lit the floor and cupboard behind him on fire.

"That's it scuttle around on the floor like the little rat you are! Are you afraid Potter?"

Harry spotted something shiny. The dagger.

"It would seem that you would be the one who's afraid." Harry sneered "Coming in numbers to take down a schoolboy. How pathetic."

"You little bastard, I'll Kill you!" The deatheater raised his wand. Hary's fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger.

"Avada-"

"Arghhh!" Harry charged the deatheater, shoving the dagger into his chest. The momentum pushed them both into the window, and Harry felt the force of the impact resonate through the deatheater and into his body, before the glass shattered into hundreds of little shards.

They tumbled out the window, and for a second Harry felt the unique sensation of weightlessness, and the empty air below them before they both vanished in a crack of smoke.


	5. Chapter 4: Mistakes Made in Passion

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters **_

**Chapter 4: Mistakes Made in Passion**

* * *

Number Four Privet Drive burned, like a flaming torch of violence against the backdrop of an otherwise quiet and perfectly unmarred suburbia. This was the sight that greeted Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as he apparated onto the recently deceased Mr. and Mrs. Dursley's front lawn, wand grasped firmly in his unwithered hand, and celestial objects on his flamboyant robes sparkling brightly. The perfect painting of horror was blurred as vapor filled his eyes and cracks sounded in his ears; his colleagues apparating to stand beside him. The old wizard's concentration however, was firmly fixed upon a dark bloody form, writhing in agony on the ground.

"_Bellatrix Lestrange!" _Remus Lupin hissed, and the werewolf ran towards her.

"Remus! No, don't!" Dumbledore shouted. He flung out his wand and Remus was halted, his body jerked into a sudden, frozen, stillness.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore's action was too late. The dark witch looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes, insane glee morphing her features through the pain, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. While Remus was charging her, Bellatrix had reached a shaking hand into her robes and had pulled out a galleon. Now she brought the gold coin to her lips, never looking away from Dumbledore's eyes, and kissed it. The galleon glowed blue, just for a moment, before the dark witch, and the entrails splayed out in the red tinged grass beside her, left in a swirling vortex of light.

'_Of course Tom wouldn't have left his best lieutenant without an escape plan,' _thought Dumbledore.

"Well, it appears we won't gain anymore information then what we've already gotten out of our dear friend, Mundungus." He said with a sigh, releasing Remus from his spell with a lazy wave of his wand.

"I-I'm sorry Dumbledore, I didn't rea-"

"Quite alright, my dear boy. Even the best of us make mistakes in moments of great passion." He patted Remus on the shoulder and began working on removing the fire, along with setting up muggle repellent charms.

"What I'd like ter know," Moody growled, "is who put tha bitch in such a bloody state. Who'er the bloke is, he deserves a pat on the back he does! Ha!" The old auror chuckled. Greatly satisfied was he at seeing retribution finally delivered to such a hated foe. With a sharp final flick of Dumbledore's wand, the flames consuming the house vanished, and a squelching sound filled the air as the wards were put in place.

Dumbledore was frowning, not at all pleased at his old friend's attitude. "Probably the same man who Mundungus claimed animated the tree laying in front of us to great effect, and apparently also slayed the death eater over there." He gestured to the fallen, charred oak, and the deatheater across the yard with shards of metal sticking up out of his stomach, throat and chest.

"If he animated tha tree first, then came onta tha yard, and killed that deatheater, then it be likely that he came from that side of the house, through tha backyard." Moody pointed out the path the vigilante must have taken.

"Perhaps we would more swiftly find our answers, and therefore more swiftly find Harry, if you were to direct your talents more abroad, Remus." Dumbledore already knew Harry was gone. His alarm had warned that the blood wards had collapsed, but another very powerful ward had kept him from apparating to Privet Drive. Probably one set up to deny anyone without a dark mark entry. He could have easily overpowered it, but the backlash for such creations was designed to be fatal. The magic composing the ward would be unleashed back upon him in its raw form. That wasn't something even the prodigious Albus Dumbledore could defend against. He had tried to floo Arabella Fig but the floo was warded as well. He then attempted to carefully disassemble both wards but before he had even finished it, another alarm had sounded Harry's departure from Privet Drive, and most likely Surrey. From there he had finally finished removing the wards, much too late, and apparated to Arabella's house to make sure she was safe before apparating again over to number four.

"Ah of course, I'll see if I can find a scent in the backyard then." Remus made his way over to the gate before crouching, nose low to the ground. An animal like trance seemed to come over him as he sniffed for a few moments, he looked up and Dumbledore caught his eyes. He could see the wolf quite clearly in the amber orbs. Apparently Remus had found something as he took off at a swift pace towards the woods. His shabby robes flapped as he vaulted the fence.

"Bloody disburbing that is!" Moody shivered. "I'm tellin you Albus, you shouldn't be trusting one ov his kind. Whatever he used to be, a dark creature he clearly be now, and he'll turn on you at any second!"

"Why, I trust him just as much as I trust you Alastor! Remus has never been one to give in to his… darker side. In fact he denies it at every turn, despite all the troubles he has to face in trying to be a werewolf in our society. That, I think, shows incredible character; far beyond what you or I have displayed in our pasts. If you were in his place, would you not have slaughtered every ministry official in the Department of the Regulation of Magical Creatures by now?" Dumbledore was standing over the fallen tree now, his eyes closed and his hands spread out before him, his face etched into a portrait of calm concentration.

Moody didn't have an answer and looked away, studying the scene in the yard before him, his magical eye spinning.

"Ye pickin up anything?" He asked

Dumbledore laughed, "My friend, you make it sound as if I were one of those muggle radars. But yes I have indeed _picked up something _as you so succinctly put it."

"Well who is it then?" Moody growled impatiently.

"I believe it is Harry."

Moody's normal eye widened comically, "You mean to say tha boy did all this? Tore up Bellatrix like a dog at a piece of meat?"

"I can't be sure Harry did all of this, but the magic on the tree is definitely his. He seems to have put a great deal of effort into it, so it's quite easy to discern despite the fire damage to the magical residue. I must say though that this was particularly good work. He must have gotten the inspiration from my duel with Voldemort. How he managed to find the spell puzzles me."

"Why don't you find out who cast the other curses?"

"Well Bellatrix is gone, and I can already tell from the position of the remains of the Dursley's mailbox and the dead death eater that it was summoned for protection and then blown back towards the enemy. That could have been Harry but it's more likely that with how much power he put into animating the tree that he had already expended too much energy for that. Besides, summoning and expulsion charms carry too faint a trace to be able to determine the caster."

"You think he had help then." Moody stated more than questioned. "Who in the hell would ave been here to help him?"

"I find myself at a loss to explain this, Alastor. It's quite possible that a death eater could have turned against his own, and it's equally possible that Severus was here. I haven't spoken to him in a few days."

"You think he would av cursed Bellatrix like that?" Moody scoffed. He definitely suspected Snape's loyalty lay towards Voldemort.

"Why must you be so ready to believe the worst of everyone, my boy?"

"I aint no boy no more old man, and you shouldn't be talking. You're disturbingly ready to believe tha best in everyone. At least I won't ever be stabbed in the back by a traitor I gave too many chances."

Dumbledore sighed. This was a tired old argument. "In more normal times I'd be able to acquire a list of spells performed by Harry from the Ministry but with all the political tension at the moment, that course seems unwise. In any case, I do not believe it could have been Harry who cast the curses here. I consider the kind of dark magic required to do what we saw done to Bellatrix far beyond Harry. He's much too pure hearted to able to control such a spell."

"Pure hearted?! He's got Voldemort inside his bloody head!"

A pop announced the arrival of another order member, and cut off the argument.

"Dumbledore we found the Durseleys!" Tonks' hair was missing its usual pink hue, and vibrancy, instead a depressing black, and hung down to her shoulders instead of its usual state of spikiness. She was wearing her red auror robes.

'_The Dursley's must be in bad shape, '_thought Dumbledore sadly.

He gave her an imploring look, beseeching her to go on.

"We found them in their car about five minutes away from here. They….they were shot dead. Both of them." Tonks hung her head.

"That could not have been the work of a deatheater. One wouldn't know one end of a firearm from the other. " Dumbledore pondered out loud.

"But a deatheater coulda cast tha Imperius Curse pretty well." Moody interjected

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him, considering the possibility.

"He's right." Dumbledore's gave shifted to Tonks. "We found the muggle bobby on the ground, right next to the Dursley's car. He admitted to shooting the Dursleys but claimed he'd been taking orders from a voice in his head all day, and couldn't refuse it. He said he felt at peace the whole time, and we had a mind healer determine he'd been under the Imperius Curse before we obliviated him. After we found that out I apparated here as soon as I could, because I figured you'd be here, or Harry might be in danger." Tonks voice was rushed, she was clearly distressed.

"You were quite correct on both counts my dear. I have to give credit to Tom. That's certainly an ingenious way to circumvent the wards, using a muggle to eliminate who they're tied to. The wards would nor have been able to protect against the policeman, or really detect him as he isn't magical. It would have theoretically picked up bad intentions from him, but since he was under the Imperious, he had no intentions at all. Tom most likely instructed whoever performed the curse to leave the policeman there to taunt us. He was in the habit of doing such things during the First War, a calling card of his you could say. More specifically it's the calling card of Yaxley, a deatheater very proficient at casting the Imperius."

Moody nodded his head. This wasn't new information to him. He had hunted the bastard for a long time.

Tonks looked troubled. It appeared as if even ancient blood wards didn't keep people safe from the Dark Lord's reach.

"Don't look so glum my friends, there is cause for hope. Perchance you've noticed, we've seen more evidence of injury to the assailants then to Harry. He may yet be safe."

Tonk's looked around for the first time and came to the same conclusion, her face in a grimace at the ghastly wounds inflicted on the dead death eater.

Their thoughts were distracted by Remus coming around from the opposite side of the house he had walked around before. It seemed his trail had taken him in a full circle.

"Well Remus, has your search shed any light on this mystery? " Dumbledore conjured a glass of water, and handed it to panting werewolf who was standing with his hands on his knees.

"Not really, it doesn't make any sense," he took a gulp of water; "I picked up a scent in the backyard, as I'm sure you saw. But I couldn't identify it. It was strange, yet very familiar at the same time. This scent led me back into the woods, where I found the carcass of a deatheater. The only reason I could tell it was even a deatheater was because there was just enough left of the forearm to see the mark. His clothes, mask, and wand were all gone though."

"Hmm, that is most curious. What did you find that led you back here?"

"The scent. It changed, but it was still the same scent, except that of a very large animal."

"What the hell are you on about?" Moody was getting frustrated

Remus glared at him. "I'd recognize it anywhere after experiencing it so many times with James, Sirius and Peter. Whoever the scent belongs to, he's an animagus. The claw marks slashed through the throat were large in diameter, but that doesn't really narrow down possibilities for forms. There's lots of animals it could be." A nasty idea was starting to form in Remus' head about what exactly Sirius may have left in that trunk he gave to Harry, and just how much Harry could accomplish in a few weeks.

"Good job just assuming it's a man. It could be a woman for all you know, " Tonks chose now to inject her feminism.

"There's a difference between male and female scents."

"Oh…nevermind." Her hair turned red in embarrassment.

"The scent came from inside the house Remus, you're sure of that?"

"Well no, I mean I can smell it from about up to the front yard, but past that the flames have destroyed it if it exists."

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged in relief. _For a second I was worried that the animagus might be Harry, _he thought.

"Can ye smell the same scent, over where Bellatrix was?" Moody was eager to find out who had injured the woman so badly.

Remus walked over and sniffed, "Yes, ughh I can also smell her guts."

"So we know Harry was helped by a man who's an animagus, ate a deatheater, and horribly maimed Bellatrix Lestrange along with killing another deatheater?" Tonks asked

"Yes that's correct Nymphadora," she glared at Dumbledore. "However, I feel there are more answers to be found inside, shall we take a look?"

* * *

The sounds of footsteps, distorted voices, the drip drop of water against stone, and iron creaking open reverberated through Harry's ears as he awoke with a gasp. He felt cold damp stone beneath him, behind him, and cold steel against his wrists.

'_smack' _a backhand connected hard against his face, waking him up fully.

"Kneel Potter, you're in the presence of the Dark Lord!" said the low voice of the deatheater who'd slapped him.

"Leave us," A serpent like voice commanded, and the death eater obeyed, leaving a torch in the bracket on the wall.

Harry's head tilted up, and to his horror met the red slit like eyes of Lord Voldemort, the torchlight dancing in them. The mouth on his snakelike face was curled into a grin as he towered over Harry's crumpled form. Harry briefly wondered why his scar wasn't hurting.

"Well Harry, it seems you've come crawling to me and in the robes of a deatheater no less. Have you rethought the offer I made you after my rebirth?"

Harry struggled into a standing position, but didn't say anything. He knew the bastard was playing with him.

"You fought well boy. You managed to kill four of my deatheaters and gravely injure Bellatrix using dark magic of the kind I must admit I didn't think you capable of."

Harry just stared at him, hate beginning to rise up in his chest.

"Tell me Harry, what are these runes? I'll admit I'm not familiar with them." Voldemort reached out and stroked the side of Harry's face, his long finger tracing the rune patterns on his jaw.

"Still silent, perhaps you want to keep your secrets. A good wizard after all, never reveals them."

"What do you want with me?" Harry's voice was steady.

"What I want Harry, is you. I _was_ simply going to retrieve the prophecy from your mind, and then kill you, but after your impressive display I've reconsidered."

'_What the bloody fuck, is he being serious?' _Harry thought.

"You will of course have to pay for the deaths of my followers and for injuring Bellatrix, but I would be willing to lessen your punishment considerably if you were to decide to join me. I value talent like yours Harry." His voice was soft, sibilant, caressing.

"I'll never join you."

Voldemort smiled. "Are you sure Harry? After all, we're not so different. I can see myself quite clearly in you. You enjoyed killing my followers didn't you? Enjoyed crushing their lives beneath your wand, your hand. You _relished _in the power the darkness gave you," Voldemort's head was beside Harry's now. The Dark Lord's words felt like they contained a magic of their own, echoing deep in Harry's soul and bringing to the forefront of his mind, primal desires for blood and power, desires he didn't know he had. They were welling up in his chest now, like a dam ready to burst. He wasn't so confident he could deny them.

"_Just like me" _Voldemort hissed in parseltounge into Harry's ear.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Harry screamed, lunging at Voldemort. The Dark Lord faded into black smoke before reappearing at the entrance to the dungeon cell.

His laugh, high and cruel, echoed throughout the stone room at Harry struggling at the end of his chains to reach him.

"You'll find that a difficult feat to accomplish while wearing those chains. They'll keep from you doing any magic, let alone slaying a wizard much more powerful than yourself. The strength and size you've gained from the runes won't help you whilst chained to a wall, and you won't even be able to transform into the beast you've worked so hard to become."

Harry stopped struggling and just stared, the only trick up his sleeve taken away from him

Voldemort's grin got wider, "Ah, surprised I know that? Lord Voldemort knows all, boy. Maybe after you've spent some time with Bella, and a few of my other deatheaters you'll reconsider your refusal. I will have you Harry Potter." With a flick of his wand the iron door groaned open and Voldemort walked out. The door clang shut, ominously, behind him. The asshole had taken the torch.

Harry hadn't managed to form an escape plan by the time the door opened again. He had pulled and struggled against the chains until his wrists were raw and bleeding to no avail, it seemed there was no escape from this cell. Wherever the hell it was. He wasn't sure how long it had been but judging by how hungry was it had to have been at least a day.

The door groaned open and the light from the torches in the hallway blinded him momentarily. His eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness of the cell. By the time his vision had cleared he was looking Bellatrix Lestrange in the face. Harry had the sudden urge to bite her, but barely managed to restrain himself.

Bellatrix stepped back, the heels of her boots clacking on the stone floors. She had brought the torch back in and it illuminated the dank cell, as well as her gaunt face, cruel eyes, and dark hair.

"I don't think ickle Potter is worthy enough to wear the robes of a deatheater." The witch said. She waved her wand, and the tattered robes vanished, leaving Harry quite naked. She flicked her wand again and Harry found himself hanging by his arms from the ceiling.

Something danced in her eyes as she gazed upon Harry's form.

"Wittle Harry's grown up hasn't he?" she purred into his ear, tracing a fingernail on his chest.

"Your disgusting!" Harry spat. Bellatrix didn't seem to hear him.

"These tattoos look familiar. I recall seeing them on dear cousin Sirius once or twice, before he ran away." She grinned. Harry felt like he was going to throw up. The nail was at his stomach now.

"Did it feel good Bellatrix, when I splattered your organs across my yard? You seem to have recovered pretty well, does it still hurt any?" Harry taunted her. He hated her so much.

The nail dug into his skin, and blood dribbled down his stomach. Harry kept himself from wincing. Bellatrix rubbed her finger in the blood, and then brought it to her mouth, licking the digit clean.

She smiled at him, his blood smeared on her lips. "I can feel him in you, right here." She placed her bloody hand on his chest.

"And here," Her hand snaked around Harry's head bringing his lips to hers. Harry jerked his neck back, and stars danced in his eyes as the back of his skull collided with the stone wall behind him.

Bellatrix laughed, "Does kissing the murderer of your precious godfather not appeal to you wittle Harry?"

"You'd never appeal to me you fucking hag!" Bellatrix's smile disappeared and she drove the wand into his stomach.

"It's about time someone's taught you how to speak to your betters. I'll pay you back in full for what you did to me, and then I'll break you, see you kneel before the Dark Lord. You'll be his, and you'll be mine, begging to fufill my every desire and command." She hissed.

"I'd rather be stung to death by a horde of angry doxies, and have my corpse get fucked by a manticore!"

'_Crucio!" _Harry's world turned into pain.

* * *

Severus Snape flexed his left forearm as the mark burned. He'd been called into a meeting with Lord Voldemort, but had not found out anything of any importance. The Dark Lord didn't seem keen on revealing Potter's location to Snape, which worried him. It meant the Dark Lord didn't trust him. Dumbledore meanwhile was pressing him to find information which he didn't know how he was going to do.

Voices broke Severus out of his train of thought as he walked down the hallway of Malfoy Mannor. The pleasant thought occurred to him that he was in Lucius' luxurius Manor while Lucius himself was rotting in Azkaban. Portaits of Malfoys long dead glared at him from their places on the wall, as if reading his thoughts.

"Did you hear Potter's screams when I tortured him last night?" That was Dolohov, Snape was sure. He quickly pressed himself into a crook in the wall behind a tapestry.

"No I got sent to babysit Greyback and his mongrels. Make sure they attacked the right people. So you enjoyed yourself?" That was Mulciber.

"Oh yes. The bastard refused to make a noise for the first couple of hours but I got it out of him. Bellatrix said it took a few days for even her to get him to when he first got here. She's down there torturing him now."

'_Fuck, '_Severus thought. '_Potter's in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor being tortured by Bellatrix sodding Lestrange, great.' _ Severus was pretty sure he could take her. He knew more magic than she was capable of understanding, but an all out fight with the witch, who was admittedly formidable, would completely destroy his ability to spy on the Dark Lord. His cover would be blown to hell. '_No_,' he thought. '_This needs more…. delicate handling.'_

Snape stood in the middle of the stairs leading to the dungeon hallway, listening to the heavy breathing of the guards watching over the big iron door at one end. _That must be where they're keeping him. _

From the sounds, Snape could tell there were two guards, but he couldn't hear anything from beyond the door. It was probably silenced. He repositioned himself on the stairs, so he could peer around the wall and get at least one of the guards in his sight. He only needed one.

'_Legilimens,' _Snape thought, his awareness traveling rapidly across the hallway to jam into the mind of the guard. For a few seconds he felt all the unique sensations involved in becoming another person. If one wasn't careful when they attempted to penetrate the mind of another, they'd find themselves lost in a torrent of memories, forever trapped looking at the world through eyes they were so determined to bore into. Snape was experienced enough that this didn't happen, and he allowed himself to flow along the stream of consciousness to where he needed to latch onto. He needed to control what the man saw, what he heard, what he smelled. Once he ingrained himself into the man's mind he put the vision in front of him.

The guard saw a many horned monster take the place of the other guard, jaws bearing down, and screamed.

"What the bloody hell are you screaming about you idiot? Shut up before Lestrange comes out here!" The other guard attempted to calm his fellow deatheater. The hallucinating guard heard it as roars.

'_You need to Protect yourself' _Snape implanted the suggestion in the man's mind. The hallucinating deatheater grabbed the other guard by the head, and slammed him repeatedly into the wall. A series of thuds and cracks echoed throughout the dungeon hallway as the unfortunate guard's brains and blood gushed down the wall and onto the floor, until the other guard dropped him. The body was twitching and jerking like a freshly caught fish.

"Killed that fucking monster I did!" The guard examined his handiwork proudly.

'_You got bit by one of its fangs. You should Grab its largest horn, and cast the advada kedavra curse on yourself with it. It's the only way to cure yourself of the poison. The evil poison that is stealing the life from you every breath you take.' _Severus made sure he withdrew completely from the man's mind after this suggestion.

The guard of course found his advice perfectly reasonable, and grabbed the now deceased guard's wand, promptly killing himself with as much hate as he could muster.

Snape could have used the Imperious Curse to achieve the same effects, but he knew the Dark Lord would have picked up on the dark magic. The tearing apart of his soul, and the various rituals he had undergone drove Voldemort deep into the Dark's embrace, but left him unable to feel any other kind of magic. Mind magic was untraceable anyhow; at least the kind Severus had performed. It was too subtle to pick up any trace, even if you were a trained mindhealer. Severus had been so firmly ingrained that the visions and suggestions would appear to anyone viewing the man's memories as his own thoughts. That didn't even matter now since the man was dead. The awareness was the only thing that entered the mind of the victim, and was withdrawn when finished, so there was no residue to leave. It would appear as if Harry had broken free of his cell, overpowered the first deatheater, taken his wand, and killed the other deatheater. Dumbledore would be the only wizard who could possibly tell differently.

Severus made his way over to the door, making sure not to step in the mush of brains and blood, and mentally prepared himself to kill Bellatrix Lestrange and make it look like Potter did it. He took a calming breath and flicked his wand. The door began to grind open.

* * *

Harry's throat had long gotten past the point of being raw from screaming. He was pretty sure his vocal chords were broken. He let out a groan as Bellatrix pressed her wand into his side with another cry of 'Crucio!' He couldn't take much more of this.

At least he wasn't hanging by his arms anymore. Bellatrix liked switching up restraints, she had him lying on the floor now. She had said each different way was better for different kinds of torture. Harry was pretty sure he'd experienced them all. The evil bitch had burned him, cut him, cruciod him, made painful lesions and blisters grow all over him, then whipped him. She had even used the curse he had hit her with a couple of times. Her torture was worse by far than any of the of the deatheaters he'd experienced. It got to the point where Harry wasn't even lucid most of the time, his mind had all but snapped.

"I think Harry, that we've finally made some progress. Today, we're going to try something different." Her robes dropped and pooled onto the floor. The Dark Lord wouldn't have Bellatrix, he wasn't human anymore and didn't feel human needs. He was a god, beyond her, only needing her worship not her flesh. She'd have him this way.

Harry wasn't really paying attention, but lucidity was returned to him with her next words.

"I want you to pleasure me." She loosened the chains on his arms.

'_Oh hell no' _Harry thought. The torchlight illuminated Bellatrix's pale naked body as she walked towards him. Azkaban really hadn't been kind on her.

"Do it now! If you don't I'll castrate you. You have no use for it if not to please me." She grabbed his hand trying to pull it towards her. He wouldn't budge.

"Fine, have it your way!" She spat, seeing the resistance in his eyes. If he hadn't learned to obey by now he never would. She pointed the wand between his legs.

"Red-"

She never got to finish the incantation as Harry swung the now loosened chains above her and then pulled his arms so they tightened around her neck. Bellatrix's wand dropped from her hand, and she clutched at the chains as Harry yanked them ever tighter. Her eyes were bulging, and spittle starting to drool out of her mouth.

Harry kept tightening, and the witch fell to the floor, her bare feet kicking, scraping themselves against the stone, as her fingers clawed at her throat. Gurgled gasps and groans struggled past her lips as she fought against the suffocation. Her legs gave a final kick, and her body one last convulsion before the madness left her eyes. Death had taken her.

Harry didn't stop pulling until her body was completely still and then he collapsed against the stone wall of the dungeon. The last time they had fed him was two days ago, and it was only a slice of stale bread. That had taken a lot of energy.

'_What was the point? They're just going to come in and kill me anyway when they see her dead. At least I got to kill her.'_

He looked up as the stone door began to groan open.

'_Damn, they're already here'_ Harry thought as a deatheater stepped into the dungeon.


	6. Chapter 5: Free me from this Hell

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

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* * *

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_**When Hunting Monsters **_

**Chapter 5: Free me from this Hell **

* * *

Severus Snape stared in shock and bewilderment at the scene laid before his feet. He had barreled into the dungeon wand out, only for the killing curse to die on his lips as his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

Bellatrix Lestrange lay on the floor, naked, and very dead. Her mouth hung open, tongue against her cheek as her eyes, bulging, stared at the stone ceiling above her, nevermore to close. Her black hair fanned out below her head on the floor like a dark halo and chains loosely encircled her neck, leaving rings of red indentations where they had been tightened against her pale flesh. The chains were attached to the floor at one end, behind Bellatrix, near her robes pooled on the ground, and Severus' eyes followed them past Bellatrix's throat, past her dropped wand, until they met their end at the cuffs enclosed on Potter's wrists. The boy was lying against the wall of the dungeon, also naked, green eyes staring at Severus defiantly as the prisoner awaited his death.

This was not Potter, couldn't be. The potter he knew was diminutive, clean, possessing short messy hair like his Father before him, with a naive arrogance in his eyes as he walked around Hogwarts as if he owned it. This prisoner was large, dirty, scarred, bruised, and bloody, and had shaggy hair that hung down to his shoulders. Strange tattoos covered his form, and his eyes held great anger and ferocity, but also a weariness that welcomed death. No, this could not be Potter, but the same eyes that bespoke a different identity betrayed his real one with their emerald intensity. Severus would always recognize Lily's eyes and they stared at him now with a primal desperation. The gaze of some fierce caged animal as it beholds its captor.

"Well, aren't you going to kill me then?" The voice that spoke was hoarse and lower then Snape was accustomed to, but definitely Potter's.

Severus reached a hand up and pulled off his mask, "Despite the beliefs instilled by your _considerable _ego, it is not everyone's life mission to see you dead."

Recognition along with surprise momentarily replaced the primality in the green orbs as Severus flicked his wand. The cuffs on Potter's wrists unclasped and fell, clanging, onto the stone floor.

Potter made a sound more wheeze than laugh, "Never thought you'd be one to come rescue me, Professor." He rubbed his wrists as Snape walked closer to him.

"Unfortunately, a certain headmaster would be very upset with me if I were to leave you rotting in this hellhole. I might even lose my job." Snape said drolly, kneeling in front of Harry.

"Ah, well we can't have that. We all know how attached you are to screaming at firsties."

"Be quiet Potter, you'll further damage your voice." Harry just looked at him, too tired to retort. "Here, drink this, you'll soon need your strength." Snape pulled a vial containing a swirling blue potion out of his robes and uncorked it, handing it to Harry who didn't accept it.

"I can't lift my arms." Harry's voice was weak and quiet as if he were about to fall asleep.

Snape clicked his tongue against his teeth in impatience and grabbed Harry's jaw with one hand, tilting the contents of the vial into the boy's mouth with the other. Harry's eyes seemed to light up and he got shakily to his feet with Severus' help.

"What was that?" He asked in wonder.

"Strengthening Solution." Snape answered curtly. "Your killing of Bellatrix saves you the time it would've taken to make her death appear as if by your hands, but we still must not tarry." He picked Bellatrix's robes up and waved his wand over them, transfiguring them slightly so they would fit, and tossed them to Harry. They were followed quickly by the witch's wand that he picked up off the floor. "You're also in luck that the Dark Lord will have left, just minutes ago, but many of his followers remain, and it's fast approaching the time for your torture to change hands." Snape and Harry both looked up as the heavy steps of boots echoed through the ceiling above them. Snape suddenly cursed before patting down his robes and pulling out another vial which he shoved it into Harry's hands.

"I almost forgot; the Dark Lord will have more influence in the ministry after tonight. He'll use the trace to track you. This potion will absolve its hold." Snape could tell the deatheaters were getting closer to the stairway by their footsteps. Harry wasn't quite sure what the Trace was but nodded anyway.

"Beneath the stairway, there is a portrait of a Malfoy ancestor. Speak the words '_Non Serviam. Liberate me ex infernis' _and it shall grant you escape."

Harry walked over to the table underneath the bracket that held the torch. He picked up one of the knives they had used to cut him, and slipped it into the belt that fastened his robes. Then he reached up and took the torch from the wall.

"What about you?" he asked Snape, his back to him.

"I cannot help you past here, my role as a spy is more important to this war than ensuring your survival." The footsteps were descending, getting louder.

"Hurry Fool! Quickly!" Harry moved past Snape, running through the doorway and into the hall, Bellatrix's wand in one hand and the torch in the other. It was too late the deatheaters were already there.

"It's Potter, he's gotten out of his cell!" The deatheater on the left shouted, throwing a curse.

"_Protego!" _Harry shouted. The red curse bounced off the shield, careening back towards the caster that quickly ducked.

Adrenaline and a terrible anger pumped through Harry. He wasn't going to get caught this close to escaping.

"_Saggitos horriblis!" _Harry's ruined voice hissed out savagely as he jabbed his wand towards the deatheater that had just ducked. Cursed arrows wreathed in shadow flew rapidly across the hallway, leaving a trail of darkness thick in the air behind them. The deatheater let out a scream as they pierced through the holes of his mask, popping his eyes with a squelch, and thudding into his chest, stomach and legs. Already low to the ground from ducking, he fell sideways, curling up into a ball. The deatheater's scream never silenced as the darkness stole his mind with nightmares just as the arrows stole his life with blood.

"You sick fuck!" The other deatheater screamed, horrified and angry at the fate of his companion, he brought his wand up. Harry looked towards him, surprised. So caught up was he in the suffering of the deatheater he had just slain he had forgotten about the other one.

"Avada Ke-"

Harry ran at the man, reaching him just before he finished the curse. As the deatheater brought the wand down, Harry drove the torch he was holding into his face. Smoke filled the hallway as mask and flesh burnt. The deatheater dropped his wand and grabbed at the torch with both hands, desperately trying to pull it away from His face. Harry wouldn't budge; he had one hand gripping the man's shoulder and the other holding the torch firmly still. Cracks sounded as the mask fell apart and the deatheater's hair caught aflame, wreathing his head in fire while his skin bubbled and eyes oozed out of their sockets. Horrible keening noises were rent from the deatheater's mouth as he died.

Harry dropped him and he fell to the floor with a thud, face still smoking and bubbling, hair still burning. He bent down and took the man's wand from the floor, then walked over and took the other deatheater's wand as well, slipping both into his robes.

Harry moved to the portrait, and held the torch up, illuminating the man in the canvas. The Roman bore a great resemblance to Lucius Malfoy, except with shorter cut hair, and wearing a toga. Harry could hear shouts, and the rushed pounding of boots as more deatheaters made their way down the stairs. He had to move quickly.

''_Non Serviam. Liberate me ex infernis'' _He whispered the words urgently. The Lucius look-alike smirked, and the portrait swung backwards, giving him a small hole to crawl through. Harry bent down, preparing to make his way through before a large hand grabbed him, pulling him backwards by his robes. Bellatrix's wand was sent flying down the secret passageway.

The hand slammed him roughly into the wall, and Harry found himself face to face with his assailant, who wasn't wearing a mask. It was the big, blonde man that had apparated them here. It seems he had recovered from his wound, Harry had been hoping he had died.

The deatheater's brutish face was curdled by rage as he gazed upon the boy who had gotten the better of him.

"You're not getting away from me this time. The Dark Lord wouldn't let me kill you before, but he's not here now is he? This time you die."

"No, I think not. You've made the same mistake you made last time." The deatheater's face twisted in confusion. Harry stabbed the knife he had pulled out of his belt into the idiot's chest. The deatheater stared down at in shock, his eyes wide, as blood poured out. Harry kicked his foot savagely forward, burying the knife further, and sending the big man sprawling onto the ground.

Harry walked over, and dropped the torch onto the man's stomach. The black robes caught fire quickly.

"You talked when you should have killed me." Harry said coldly. The man burned and yelled wet gargling sounds as his lungs were filled with blood. Harry stepped backwards, and then, seeing spells flying at him, dove through the hole, into the secret passage way just in time. The multitude of curses impacted the ceiling and walls of the entrance, and the stone collapsed in on itself, creating a shield between Harry and the rest of the deatheaters along with ensuring his escape. He felt around on the ground for Bellatrix's wand. It was a trophy to him, a reminder that he had destroyed the witch who killed Sirius and put him through so much pain. He couldn't lose it. His fingers closed around the wand, and with a quick "_lumos" _Harry made his way forward in the darkness.

* * *

"And you're quite certain of what you saw Severus?" Albus Dumbledore was leaning backwards in his chair, staring at the man sitting on the other side of his desk. His hand was stroking his long silver beard. The old wizard was deep in thought.

"Yes Albus, I'm quite certain." Snape's voice was agitated and his black eyes were hard. "The boy used the incantation _saggitos horriblis." _

Dumbledore was very familiar with the curse Severus had described. It was used by the wizards of old during battle, popular for its efficiency. Even if the arrows failed to hit a fatal mark, the darkness that permeated the victim's mind, producing hellish visions of being feasted upon by demons, would surely incapacitate them. Quite simply the curse would rip apart the mind and soul no matter where the arrows struck. Because of that effectiveness it would pop up every once in a while throughout history, used by different Dark Lords. Grindewald was one who favored it, along with Voldemort who had used it on occasion. To have controlled the curse with the expertise Severus claimed Harry did, the boy either had to have become very proficient in the Dark Arts or have a great affinity for them. Dumbledore pressed a hand to his forehead disturbed. He wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

"How again did he escape, I'm afraid I was lost in my thoughts when you explained that part."

"I gave him the password for an escape route Lucius told me of. It's long been in place since before the manor was moved from Rome. In case anyone was to capture it. The Malfoys' ancient Roman ancestors would have considered it hell to allow themselves to be captured or forced into servitude by conquering wizards. It's Ironic that Lucius serves willingly."

"I'm afraid poor Harry has turned dark Severus." Dumbledore sighed, blinking away tears as he ignored the stares of the portraits lining his office walls. Fawkes warbled a sad note from his perch.

"Bellatrix and the other deatheaters tortured the hell out of the boy for a week, surely they deserved some form of retribution." Severus didn't sound very concerned at prospect of an evil chosen one.

"But to die like that…. You saw the suffering the curse caused, how could anyone believe another human deserves to perish in such a manner? It's not a fate I would wish on even Tom."

Severus' eyes grew angry and he raised his voice slightly, "Well then you're a fool Albus! You don't have to walk among them, pretend you're like them, or you'd know that they're not men. They're beasts. They gave up any humanity they possessed long ago to follow a man who never wanted his!"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Perhaps Severus… Perhaps you're right, and I'm simply too weak. Not hard enough to do what needs to be done. Maybe if I were different, we would have already won this war. But, my dear boy, I turned from that path long ago. What purpose is there in fighting so hard, only to replace one dark lord for another?" Severus didn't have an answer to this, and looked down at the polished surface of the desk, the newspaper displaying the dark mark floating above the Bones residence. Madam Bones was dead, Voldemort had killed her himself, and soon he'd have a puppet of his in her place as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A disturbing thought indeed.

"Do you know what the runes were that Potter had tattood all over his skin?" Snape looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, pushing the image of Harry lying against the wall of his cell into his mind.

The old wizard let out a gasp, probably startled at Potter's battered appearance.

"I really have failed the boy haven't I Severus?" Snape didn't answer. Dumblefore looked away for a few moments, again stroking his beard as he gazed at Fawkes.

"How is your hand doing?" Snape noticed Dumbledore had the cursed one hidden in the sleeve of his robes.

"It's holding up for now, you did quite a good job with it."

"You know there are… other treatments we could move onto. They would leave you incapacitated for a month or two, but they would save your hand, not to mention your life."

"I can hazard a guess as to what the runes were, based on evidence we found at his relatives home." The old wizard clearly didn't want to discuss the options regarding his hand.

"Oh?" Severus questioned. It had come as somewhat as a shock that Lily's muggle sister, who bore such a great resentment to her, and to Severus himself for being magical, had died. But, he hadn't had time over the last week to learn the exact details.

"Yes, Remus found a body in the woods, the carcass of one Amycus Carrow. It had been partly devoured, and that along with destroyed furniture and doorways in the house lead me to believe Harry took it upon himself to perform some ancient ritualistic version of the animagus transformation."

"Are you sure the werewolf didn't cause such destruction?"

"Severus… you really should let bygones be bygones, it's not healthy to hold such grudges for such a long time."

"Bygones?! The bloody half-breed attempted to make a meal out of me!"

"You know he wasn't in his right mind, my boy. Anyhow there is some good come out of all of this mess."

"And what good is that?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Harry escaped Tom's clutches with your help, and his muggle cousin, Dudley, somehow managed to get away from Privet Drive. We didn't happen upon his body during the investigation."

* * *

The passageway ended in a trap door that was actually a hollow boulder at the edge of the woods, the very end of the Malfoy property. Harry had barely pulled himself out, before being set upon by claws, feathers filling his mouth, as wings attacked his head.

"Hedwig?! Urghh ge'off me!" He pulled the owl off his face, and glared at it, spitting out a mouthful of white feathers. They floated in the air. Hedwig was glaring right back.

Harry supposed she was mad at having to fly all this way to find him. He wondered how she even knew where he was. Then again it must be the same way he could tell her to deliver a letter to anyone and she would somehow accomplish it.

"Look, I'm sorry alright? It's not like I knew I was going to be kidnapped by deatheaters." Hedwig hooted disdainfully.

Harry pulled Bellatrix's wand out and conjured a sheet of parchment along with a quill and ink bottle. Reviewing his charms, and transfiguration books, and practicing the incantations along with the wand movements had really paid off. It was something Hermione could probably do in her sleep, but Harry still felt proud he could actually do something useful with his magic for a change. It was something that didn't involve killing deatheaters, but that he could use on an everyday basis. Putting the parchment against the hollow boulder, he quickly jotted out a quick note to Dudley, asking him for his location, and instructing him to give Harry's broom and wand to Hedwig.

"Girl do you think you could carry my broom and my wand?" Hedwig clicked her beak and flapped her wings in distress.

"Alright, alright I guess that's a no." He added a bit more to Dudley's note, telling him to give Hedwig some galleons first, so she could come back with another owl.

"Give this to Dudley, and after he gives you some money go to the post office and give them this." He conjured another piece of parchment and wrote out a request for the temporary service of a few owls. "Then go back to Dudley, and bring my wand , broom, and invisibility cloak back here. I'll probably be somewhere in the woods." Harry was getting sick of using Bellatrix's wand. It didn't feel right, and he'd need the broom and cloak to get to wherever Dudley was.

He handed Hedwig the letters, which she clutched in her talons before taking off, hooting angrily. Apparently she wasn't very happy at being sent away so soon.

It had taken a few days for Hedwig to return , and Harry had traveled deep into the woods. His intent had been to transform into his animagus form, maybe gain some control of it, and then go hunting but he wasn't having much luck. During his torture he had felt the beast stirring in his chest, desperate to be let out, desperate to rend the flesh from his torturers bodies. The magical shackles had prevented that, but now it was his lack of enemies. He supposed the hunger would drive the beast out soon enough, but he was still glad that Hedwig had returned. He was eager to get out of the woods before death eaters managed to find him again. The post owls soon flew away after delivery, and Harry held his wand for a moment, reveling in its familiar warmth, before slipping it into his robes with the others, mounting the broom, and throwing the cloak over himself. He took off, the trees rushing by in flashes of green and brown as he ascended above the canopy of the forest. Hedwig, shining like a star in the black night, flew behind the invisible wizard who was heading swiftly towards London.

*****

An:

Thanks everyone who's reading and/or reviewing this story. It's pretty cool that people are actually adding it to their favorites, or story alerts. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but the next part really needs to be its own chapter. I'll try to have it up later today.

*_ Non Serviam, liberate me ex infernis = _I will not serve, free me from this hell.

** _Saggitos horriblis =_terrible arrows


	7. Chapter 6: New Lodgings

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters**_

_Chapter 6: New Lodgings_

* * *

The Dark Lord was beyond furious. After killing Bones he had taken a trip to Romania to meet with the vampires, only to return back to Britain to find that Potter had escaped, and had killed his best , most faithful lieutenant along with five other deatheaters. He was lucky in that 4 of the other deatheaters he had killed weren't very important, simply fresh recruits. Thorfin Rowle however, was a loss that would hurt him. The man had been a skilled dueler, and a valued follower.

"_Crucio_!" He screamed again, and twisted his wand. The deatheater merely twitched at his feet, blood dribbling out of the eyeholes and bottom of his mask.

'_Dead then. A shame.' _Thought Voldemort.

"_Come Nagini, I have a lovely hot meal for you." _The Dark Lord hissed from his place at the head of the Malfoys' table. His chair was turned away from the table so he could more easily torture and watch the man in front of him.

The Malyfoy's dining room bore a sharp contrast to their dungeons. Where the dungeons had possessed a chilling cold, the dining room blazed with warmth emanating from the ornate fireplace at the end of the room. Magnificent marble statues of dragons with folded wings climbed their way up the sides of the mantle, soared with wings outstretched above it. Where the dungeons had been dirty and hard with their stone floors and walls, the dining room was plush and soft with the polished oak walls and floor, the coat of a chimera, different tails included lied in front of the fireplace. Where the dungeon had been bare the dining room was decorated with heads of various magical creatures adorning the walls. A griffin here, a unicorn there. Even the huge, horse like but reptilian head of a sea serpent could be found. A stuffed Augury sat perched atop a cabinet containing expensive artifacts. Its inky black- green feathers gleamed in the firelight and its beak was open as if still warbling its mournful cry.

Lucius was still in Azkaban, but Voldemort would have taken the head chair at the grand, opulent table anyway. After the man's failure Voldemort wasn't keen on expending any effort to break him out of the prison, but he knew that eventually he'd need too. Too many of his followers were rotting there, and despite their incompetence, it was always helpful to have greater numbers on one's side.

The deatheaters didn't dare look away as the great snake slithered to the body at her master's feet. They knew it would be cause for punishment should they display their squeamishness. Narcissa covered her mouth with her hand, choking back a gasp as the serpent began unhinging its jaws, squeezing them around the deceased deatheater's skull. The boy, Draco, looked like he was about to vomit.

Voldemort got up and turned around, placing his hands on the table, long white fingers outstretched.

"What's wrong Narcissa? Imagining your dear husband in his place? I must admit, it is a possibility; my anger at his ineptitude has not lessened. Maybe it would serve as motivation not to fail me. Such a thing is clearly needed." Lady Malfoy's expression changed from revolted to horrified at the cruel implications coming from Voldemort's high, sinister, and serpentine voice.

Yaxley cleared his throat.

"Oh yes, my apologies Yaxley. Go ahead and bring in the prisoner you mentioned. I'm in the mood for some entertainment. I'm afraid Nagini's snack wasn't very satisfying. The curse broke the pathetic fool in less than ten minutes." A few of the death eaters chuckled.

Yaxley got up, pushed his chair in and exited the room, his expensive cloak swishing around him. The echoes from his dragon hide boots could be heard as he made his way down the corridors.

"While we're waiting, I'd have you send for Greyback, Macnair. I have a task for him" The man suppressed his groan from his place near the other end of the table, but Voldemort heard it emanating clearly from his mind.

He laughed, "Yes, the wolf is unpleasant, but he's much more efficient than any of my followers sitting here at this table can claim to be. You all have your riches, your pure blood and traditions that you seem to feel grant you superiority, yet you fail to accomplish the most simple of tasks!" To punctuate his anger he sent a silent _reducto _at the dead deatheater's leg with a jab of his wand, careful not to hit nagini. The leg exploded, spraying blood, flesh and bits of bone all over the room, painting the walls, floor and table, along with some of the closer sitting deatheaters. The once pristine unicorn head was now speckled red with blood, a chunk of thigh had landed skewed on its horn like a kebab.

The deatheaters all looked down at the table, glaring. Voldemort could feel resentment and shame coming from them.

'_good' _he thought.

"What purpose is there of being from noble stock, when your competence is surpassed by that of a dirty half-breed? How is my vision to be realized when I can't even trust the best wizarding society has to offer to guard a mere schoolboy? " He stared each of them of them in the eyes one by one. Draco looked down at the table, his blonde bangs covering his face and hiding his fear from view. Voldemort raised his wand to curse him.

"My Lord, I beg forgiveness!" Alecto Carrow threw herself on the floor, prostrating herself in front of the Dark Lord. "The brat killed my brother, I'll see him dead, and prove my worth!"

"_Crucio_!" The squat, ugly witch twisted on the floor screaming. Voldemort flicked his wand, and the curse ended, the screaming stopped. "Lord Voldemort does not forgive. See to it that all of you prove yourselves to me or you'll find yourselves in fates worse than what I delivered upon Madam Bones!"

The deatheaters who had been with him on that trip shuddered, whispering amongst themselves what Voldemort had done, how Bones had begged and pleaded for death before their Dark Lord had granted it to her.

"Be on your way Macnair! My patience grows ever limited." He waved his wand and Macnair was thrown out of his chair, sprawling onto the floor. Humilitated ,the deatheater got quickly to his feet and made to depart. The lips partially hidden by his dirty gray streaked beard curled in a snarl at the jeering deatheaters. Voldemort sat back down in his seat, facing away from the others. They'd watch the events to come unfold from over his shoulder.

As Macnair reached the door to the hallway, it was thrown open by Yaxley, who marched in and yanked a chain. A figure attached to it by a collar came stumbling in, his short, portly stature unable to keep up with Yaxley's long strides. The fat, brown haired man was dressed only in a pair of torn, dark green trousers, with no shoes or socks. His belly jiggled as he tried to keep his balance. He let out a starteld yell at the sight of Nagini filling her stomach with the deatheater, the blood slick on the wood floor, and the gore coating table and walls. Yaxley brought the man to his knees in front of Voldemort, and torch light in the Malfoy's dining room illuminated the man's round flabby face.

"Well, Mr. Fudge, what do you have to say for yourself?" The Dark Lord hissed menacingly, his red eyes contracted into fine angry slits, and his thin lips curled into a scowl. His snakelike face was a mask of terrifying fury.

"I-I-not my-please don-" The portly man stammered. His brown hair was soaked in sweat which dribbled down his face and off his quivering chin.

"SILENCE!" Bellowed Voldemort, waving his wand sharply. An invisible backhand slammed into Fudge's cheek, sending a few of his teeth flying, and knocking him on his ass. Voldemort stood up, striding over to Fudge to tower above him, a monolith of rage. The fire in his eyes and the glow emanating from his alabaster skin was only matched by darkness of his robes.

"I gave you explicit instructions to do whatever you must to remain in office." Voldemort said coldy, His high sibilant voice soft and threatening.

The man started to again stammer an excuse, which died as the Dark Lord directed a glare into his eyes.

"Lucius left you with plenty coin. You could have bought more than half of the families' votes, you could have used me to threaten them. You could have done many things, so why is it that Scrimguor, an auror, sits in the office of the Minister of Magic and not you?!" It was true that with Bones' death the Dark Lord had a puppet of his in her place, and that greatly increased his influence in the Ministry, but he would have had almost total control if Fudge was still in office.

Fudge started trying to speak again.

Voldemort placed his foot on the pathetic man's throat with great pressure, a calculated lapse of control in his terrible frigid rage. Fudge gasped, trying to remove the Dark Lord's feet with his hands.

With a disgusted grimace Voldemort flicked his wand and the man's hands turned red and started smoking. Fudge bleated a struggled cry of pain and let go.

Voldemort removed his foot, and the ex-minister let out a torrent of wheezing coughs.

The Dark Lord turned his back on the fool, directing a smirk at the deatheaters, who besides Narcissa and Draco, grinned in return.

"I have no more use for you _minister, _" He said the term mockingly, "and I'm afraid I can't let this transgression go unpunished. How am I to know that you've not begun to take Dumbledore's council and turned against me, giving up your position willingly?" Voldemort knew that was unlikely, but it was amusing to watch the man panic.

"I haven't! I would never be-_cough-_ tray you!" The portly man was attempting to crawl towards Voldemort now.

"Why would I believe anything you have to say? _Abeo tu Insectas!" _The Dark Lord shouted, spinning around and waving his wand in a complicated pattern over the desperate man. He hadn't really needed to voice the spell, but Voldemort had always been a performer, borne out of a desire to prove himself and for others to recognize the talents of a half blood orphan.

Fudge stopped his crawling and stared up in fear, before looking relieved as nothing had yet happened. After a few moments his expression of relief changed to a grimace of pain as he grabbed his stomach, howling in agony.

His hands moved away as he fell onto his back from his kneeling position, and the deatheaters saw spots of skin where the flesh was being raised up, as if something was attempting to poke out. Suddenly a pincer burst its way through the flesh above Fudge's belly button. The body of a scorpion followed it, wriggling out of the man's stomach, leaving a slimy trail of blood and guts as it plopped onto the floor. Fudge let out more anguished screams as a multitude of bubbles soon appeared in the skin covering his ample torso. One by one they popped, and a horde of insects crawled out. Once they made their way out of Fudges body the spiders, scorpions, and centipedes would began to feast on the poor minister. A scorpion crawled up to his right eyeball, digging a pincer in. Fudge thrashed and convulsed as a centipede wormed its way into his nose.

The deatheaters and the Dark Lord watched in rapture as Minister Fudge was devoured from the inside and the out. There were bugs in both his eyes now, his nostrils, wriggling into his ears, burrowing into his flesh where they could not find orifices. The sight lifted Voldemort's spirits slightly, but he was still so angry. Fudge's scream began to become muddled as spiders filled his throat, biting and tearing with many little fangs at his vocal chords. The Dark Lord found himself inspired by the beauty in front of him. Gears began to spin rapidly in his mind, making connections, perfecting a grim idea. Potter would pay for refusing him, for the death of his Bellatrix. He would soon set plans in motion to see to it. Oh yes, Potter would pay dearly. The boy would come to regret the choices he had made.

* * *

Scatching on the balcony's glass door distracted Dudley from the book he had been reading. He put it down and got up from the desk.

"Hold on, hold on," he muttered, making his way to the door, before realizing the sound was coming from the other direction. He turned around, and spotted his cousin's snowy owl on the balcony, flapping its wings, and pecking on the glass. He slid it open and the owl flew through, stopping to perch on the dresser. Dudley felt something brush past him and saw footprints in the soft carpet before the cloak he had become familiar with was thrown off, revealing Harry. Dudley was startled at his appearance, he had already seen the tattoos and Harry's increase in size, but now the boy looked like he had been through hell, his cheeks gaunt, and shadows underneath his eyes. His black hair hung lankly to his shoulders. The dark robes he wore were torn and crusted with dry blood.

"Hey there Dudley," Harry grinned. The grin made his face appear even more skeletal. Dudley found it menacing. "Glad to see you've found comfortable lodgings." Harry walked around the room, examining the décor. He opened the bathroom and whistled incredulously. "Merlin, Dud how much money did you spend?" Dudley blushed.

"Well there was quite a bit in the trunk. I figured I'd at least find a nice hotel cus I didn't know how long I'd be waiting for you. I thought you must be dead after the first few days, and was thinking about where to go before you sent your owl."

"Ah sorry about that, I found myself in the company of deatheaters. The men who attacked Privet Drive and killed your parents." Dudley blanched. Harry was sitting on the unused bed now, staring at Dudley, who walked over and sat on his bed.

"How did you escape? Did you kill them?" Dudley's mind had been bent in fury the last week, desperate for revenge, but not sure how he would go about getting it from someone who could turn him into a cockroach, or end his life with the wave of a stick. Part of him felt disappointed that Harry taken the chance from him.

"I killed a few. Unfortunately, I didn't get the one who killed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He tortured me one night, and bragged about imperiousing a bobby to do it. His name is Yaxley. Ugly, blunt, looking bastard. The imperius is a curse that controls someone's mind by the way."

"I know I've been reading your books."

Harry looked up surprised. Looking around the room he noticed his spell books were on the table, the dresser, opened on the nightstand.

"Why didn't you kill him?" Dudley sounded angry.

"Didn't see him when I made my escape. Voldemort must have sent him off on some mission." Harry was still wondering why Dudley would bother reading books on magic.

"Did you at least get the one who killed your godfather?"

"Oh yes… with the chains she strung me up with, I choked the life from her." Harry's eyes darkened as he reveled in the memory. Dudley was disturbed; he hadn't really wanted to know the details. He was even more disturbed that Harry seemed to take so much pleasure from the memory of her death.

"So what do we do from here?" He changed the subject.

Harry rubbed his face, deep in thought for a few moments. "Well I can't stay here. Too expensive, and I need to be someplace closer to Diagon Alley, the wizarding shopping center. I need to be able to go back and forth from Gringrotts, and if I need to buy things. We're too far away now."

"Are we going after this Yaxley person?"

"We? No offence, but what are you going to do against a deatheater, a wizard highly skilled in the Dark Arts?"

Dudley looked down. "Well I just thinking… magic can do so many things, I don't see why there can't be some way to, I don't know, make me a wizard. And even if there isn't I bet I can fire a gun faster than he can shoot a spell."

"You've got a point there, the problem is that he'd kill you before you could even pull it out."

"Make me a wizard then."

Harry just stared at Dudley like the boy was out of his mind.

"One does not simply make someone a wizard. Either you're born one or you're not, I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."

"Those rituals though, they make people things. They made you an animal didn't they?"

Harry looked angry, like he was about to yell, before he deflated, shoulders sagging.

"I was already an animal, the ritual just brought it out." He got up from the bed and picked up the book sitting on the table, it was the _compendium_.

"Now that I think about it, there may be something in your idea. Most of these rituals require that a person already possesses magic to work. There is one, designed for a muggle. The runes act like a shield, bending magic cast around the person they're inscribed on. They use the magic from spells being cast at you to work, so they don't need you to have magic of your own."

"Would it block the killing curse?"

"You have been reading haven't you? No it would not. It probably would not be able to protect against any powerful magics."

"Well that's pretty useless then."

"I suppose. There are references in here though, to other rituals from different cultures. You have to remember that this book is limited in that it only includes magics of a Celtic origin. It makes a point however to describe their history, and that some of the ideas are borrowed from creations of more ancient cultures. The ritual I went through, for example, takes concepts from what ancient wizards used to create the original werewolves."

"Werewolves were created by wizards? One of your books said they're people infected by a magical disease called lycanthropy. "

"According to the compendium the original werewolves were created for war, out of muggles that served their wizard masters. What their creators didn't anticipate is that the curse would be transferred through the werewolves bite. Many such creatures were created through the experimentation by wizards. Thestrals, vampires, and centaurs would be good examples. "

"So you think you could find some way to make me a wizard?"

"Maybe not make you a wizard exactly. I definitely wouldn't find such a thing in any bookstore. There's only place of I can think to look for that kind of knowledge."

"Where is that?"

"We're going to have to take a trip to Grimmauld Place. My godfather's ancestral house. There's a library there with books dating back thousands of years."

"How are we getting there?"

"We'll fly I guess. We're going to need to buy a few things first, and find a more permanent location." Dudley looked sick at the prospect of flying.

"Oh yes that reminds me." Harry took a potion out of his robes and gulped it down. "If I'm going to be doing magic on you, I'm going to need to be untraceable."

"What was that?"

"A potion to keep the ministry, and through extension Voldemort, from tracking me. Hopefully the snake wasn't lying and it will really do what it's supposed to. Otherwise we're fucked."

* * *

The first order of business for Harry and Dudley was finding a more permanent place of residence. Harry had borrowed some of the clothes Dudley had purchased over the last week to appear more normal. Not surprisingly, with Harry's increase in height and size they were much less loose. In fact the arms of the shirt and the trousers were a little too short.

After much searching they had found a seedy little apartment for rent near the leaky cauldron. It was on the top floor of the building and overlooked a dark alleyway. The mean old landlady had offered a ridiculously high price but Harry had haggled with her, not feeling up to taking any of her bullshit. Her wrinkled face looked like she was sucking on a lemon as they settled on something more reasonable for the rent. She stalked out of the door, a rat scuttling by her feet as she opened it.

"Harry, this is _disgusting." _Dudley was fingering the moth eaten drapes covering the grimy window. The drapes were splotched with some weird greenish stains. He opened the window and let Hedwig in, who'd been following them all day.

"But it's perfect for our plans." The shitty apartment reminded Harry of the shrieking shack, except with gray mortar instead of light brown wood.

The couch Harry was sitting on was covered in dust and mold. Springs stuck out of it in random places. There was no telly, or even a radio. The small living room had a kitchen at one end, a door to the exit of the apartment, leading to the stairs, and a small hallway containing three doors for two bedrooms and one bathroom.

Harry got up, and walked over to the door of the first bedroom.

"We're definitely replacing the mattresses." Dudley came to look inside. The mattress looked like it had been ripped apart, and was exuding a foul odor. By appearances it was actually rotting.

"We'd have money to do it now, if you hadn't spent it all on your hotel room and your clothes. Luckily we've still got plenty of wizarding money. You couldn't spend that." Harry glared at Dudley

"Look I'm sorry alright, I didn't even know you were coming back."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter now. We'll go shopping , but we need to go to Diagon Alley first to get some muggle money."

"Won't you be recognized?"

"Hmm you're right; Voldemort will probably have people looking. Dumbledore might too, and I'm not ready to go wherever he's planning to send me for the rest of the summer. But they won't see me if you're the one doing the shopping. I'll be under the cloak." Harry grinned evilly. Dudley gulped.

"But-but I don't have any wizards robes. " Harry walked back, and pulled his ragged deatheater robes out of the trunk he had left by the door. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and flicked it over the robes. The color changed to blue. He flicked it again and the holes and tears disappeared. His nonverbal charms were getting better. Harry handed the robes to Dudley.

"See if those fit. Hopefully they do because I don't have much experience with tailoring charms. I think I left a wand or two in the inside pocket."

Dudley pulled them over his head, and they constricted his chest. "Just a little tight, but I'll live." He reached into the pocket and pulled out a wand. It was short, and of a grayish color. There were several chips and dents in the wood, and it gave off a dark, corruptive feeling. Dudley figured it was the wand of a deatheater Harry had killed.

"There you go, look like a proper wizard now. The only people that could possibly recognize you would be the few that you've met, so just keep the hood up."

Seeing Diagon Alley was definitely a remarkable experience for Dudley. Only in the land of dreams had such things as flying broomsticks, goblins, and bubbling cauldrons been possible, and the Dursleys greatly discouraged such dreams. He felt Harry poke him in the back.

"Keep moving, and for the love of God would you quit gawking at everything like an idiot? You're attracting attention. " Dudley blushed and closed his mouth, noticing the wizards and witches who had been staring at him.

"Here stop, this is the store. Go in and get one of those bags they're advertising."

The store was called '_Tenacious Trunks" _and Dudley walked in nervously. He reached the stand near the front of the store that was offering

'_Bottemless bags: ten galleons. Store everything but your house! _

'_Warning: Neither Mr. Tidus or any of the employees are responsible for the deaths of any living creatures inserted into bottomless bags. When overfilled, objects tend to disappear. You will not be reimbursed.' _

Dudley took one of the silky black bags to the counter, coming face to face with a short old man. He was wearing brown robes, and had curly gray hair. Thick spectacles were perched on his beak like nose.

"Well then, boy can I help you? I haven't got all day." Dudley stopped his staring and put the bag on the counter.

"Ah one of the bags is it then? That will be ten galleons." Harry reached carefully from underneath the cloak, and Dudley felt him press a handful of coins into his hand. Dudley handed the coins to the shopkeeper and made his way out of the store.

"I told you to quit staring at stuff." Harry whispered into Dudley's ear. "Make for the big white building that says Gringrotts now. When we get in tell the goblin at the counter that you have Harry Potter with you and hand him this key." Harry handed Dudley his vault key.

Dudley controlled himself this time and didn't stare at the menacing goblin guard, and walked to the counter. A goblin sat behind it, counting a pile of coins under his breath.

"Eer, excuse me." Dudley interrupted the creature. It glared at him.

"What do you want muggle?" Dudley looked shocked. How did it know?

"Um, I've got Harry Potter with me. Here's his key." He whispered and handed the key to the goblin who snatched it from him.

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for that am I?"

"I'm here," said Harry quietly.

"Fine then." The goblin pressed a button on his desk. "I'll have Griphook show you both down to your vault. "

Dudley felt the ride was quite like a muggle rollercoaster and enjoyed it immensely. The doors to the vault opened and he found himself amazed at the piles of gold silver and bronze.

Harry took the cloak off, and Dudley handed him the black bag.

"No need for secrecy now that we're down here. Help me get a bunch of these gold coins into the bag."

They spent a while shoveling the galleons into the bag, which never seemed to be any less empty, until Harry decided they had enough. Harry threw the cloak back on and they ascended. Once back up to the surface Dudley had the goblin exchange half of it for muggle money.

* * *

Dudley pulled the robes off of his head as soon as they exited the Leaky Cauldron. They were lucky as the color was already changing back to black, and they would have been recognized for death eaters robes. Harry took off the cloak of invisibility and hailed a cab. They drove around til finding a furniture store.

"Pick out anything you like Dudley, we're pretty much unlimited in terms of finance."

Dudley certainly picked out everything that caught his eye and they spent a few hours in the store buying everything from new beds to a working refrigerator.

"So where you want this all delivered to?" The clerk asked an incredulous expression was on his face and Harry gave the man the address.

"Alright, it should be there in a few hours. Just pay the men when they get there."

The boys shopped in a few more stores, purchasing an expensive flat-screen telly, clothes, paint, brushes, wood, dishes, a pump device for spraying weed killer, and gasoline. Harry only explained the last two with "We'll need it soon." They fit all of it in the tiny bag which was starting to appear a little fuller.

Harry and Dudley found the delivery man waiting for them when they stepped out of the cab onto the sidewalk of Charing Cross road. Piles of boxes and assortments of furniture were lined up in front of the apartment complex.

Harry walked up and handed the man who looked like he was in charge the money. He then opened the door to the apartment building and looked around. The landlady was gone, a note on the door to her rooms saying she'd be back in three days.

"Thanks for your help, have a good day." He told the delivery man.

The man stared at him dubiously, scratching his head. "You're a big fellow, but you sure you don't want any help getting all that up?"

"Nah, I think we can manage it between ourselves," He gestured to Dudely.

"Er, alright then, good day." The workers got back in the truck, and it sped off.

"Harry what the bloody fuck? How in the hell are we gonna get all this up those stairs?"

"Dudley I'm a wizard, remember? The landlady's gone and if we're quick none of the other tenants will notice. Besides I need the practice. Go upstairs and open the door to our room. "

'wingardium leviosa' he thought and a recliner and a mattress wobbled into the air. With a flick of his wand it shot through the doors of the apartment and up the stairs. Harry concentrated, imagining the building and the layout of the rooms. He dropped the recliner in where he approximated the living room to be, and the mattress in his room. He continued in this fashion until there were no more boxes or random objects left and made his way up to their apartment.

His approximations turned out to be averagely correct for the most part. Many of his guesses had been slighty off center, but that didn't matter so much. He and Dudley quickly got to work.

Harry vanished the old furniture, the drapes, the kitchen appliances, and everything else they wanted rid of with quick _'evanescos'_ and then '_scourgified' _the rest of the house. When he had finished with his now empty room, he levitated the pieces for the bed frame out of their box, and Dudley, reading the directions, grabbed pieces out of the air, and screwed or put them together.

They did this with all the furniture, the bookcases, and set in the appliances, and the telly. The completely redone apartment was actually looking nice.

Harry looked down at his feet. The beige carpet still bore stains, so he transfigured it and changed the color with a mental '_abeo'_ and picturing a black, soft carpet in his mind. He checked his room and Dudley's to make sure it worked in both. They had replaced everything in the bathroom even the tiles. It was no longer the rusty, grimy, slimy pig trough that it had been but now matched the opulence of the one in the hotel.

"Wow, that would have taken us days normally. Magic is really cool."

Harry chuckled. "Good job stating the obvious Dudley." Dudley punched him jokingly in the shoulder.

"Alright well I'm knackered, I'm going to sleep in my nice new bed."

"Me too, tomorrow we'll go find your ritual." During the course of the day Harry had been forming a plan in his head of how to acquire the books without notice. He wasn't sure if the Order was still at Grimmauld since Sirius had died, but just in case, he needed to be sure he wouldn't be seen.

* * *

Harry sat on his broom, Dudley behind him, and carefully opened the window to the library of Grimmauld Place. No one was inside. He climbed through the window, making sure the invisibility cloak was on him, and the weed killer pump filled with gasoline under his arm. He placed it in the middle of the library and looked around. Many books were missing from the tall shelves.

"Dudley come here." He whispered.

Dudley clambered through the window, leaving the broom levitating outside and stood next to Harry.

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot Mrs. Weasley removed a lot of the books. Probably the ones we'll need."

"What the fuck? How are we going to find the ritual then?!"

"Shh Dudley calm down. I've got an idea. If I'm right it shouldn't be too hard."

"What are you talking about?"

"KREACHER!" Harry shouted

A pop sounded before a dirty creature fell on the ground, screaming and banging his fists.

"Kreacher won't! Kreacher won't serve the nasty half blood orphan! Kreacher won't serve the brat that killed miss bella!"

Dudley looked terrified and backed up away from the strange thing with bat like ears, and a snout like nose.

"Silence." Harry ordered calmy, and the thing shut up, staring at him with hate.

"What did Mrs. Weasley do with the books? I order you to tell me the complete truth."

"Nasty fat redhead woman tried to throw them out!" Kreacher spat. "But no, stupid blood traitor didn't realize that magics more powerful then her be protecting them. She couldn't move the books past the front door. Threw quite a fit she did!" Kreacher cackled.

"Then what did she do?" He held back his anger at Kreature's foul tounge.

"Then nasty woman put them in the basement, so her dirty redheaded children wouldn't read them."

"Thank you Kreacher. " Harry turned to walk out the library, pump again under his arm. "Oh yes, one more thing Kreacher, before I forget." He turned around slowly.

The elf glared at him.

"_Crucio!" _Harry hissed. The elf fell back on the ground, screaming in pain.

"_Lachia!" _He jerked his wand. A ripple of magic moved swiftly through the air, slashing through the house elf's neck. Kreachers head slid off and fell to the floor with a thud, blood spraying.

"Harry, why'd you do that?" Dudley was trying to keep up with Harry's fast angry pace up the stairs.

"That _elf_ willingly caused my godfather's death. He wasn't solely to blame but he could have averted it."

"Oh. Why was it taking your orders?"

"I had a hunch that Sirius left me this house. That hunch proved right; I used Kreacher to test it. He would have passed to me along with the house, and a house elf must always obey its master."

"So why isn't anyone here? You said this was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."

"It is, but they have no way of knowing for sure who got the house, it could belong to anyone related to Sirius, and there's a few deatheaters who have that claim. Sirius obviously wouldn't have left it to any of them, but they could have contested the will and won. Here we are Dudley, the basement."

Harry yanked the door open, and a few feathers floated out. Remains of when the Hippogriff Buckbeak now named Witherwings had taken residence. The basement was as dusty as ever. Large wooden crates wrapped in chains with padlocks stacked on top of each other filled the room.

Harry touched one of the padlocks, and it grew padlocks and tried to bite his hand.

"Damn you Mrs. Weasley!" He growled. Her paranoia would cause him a lot of time and effort.

"_Finite Incantatum!" _He waved his wand, and reached towards the padlock again, again it tried to bite him.

"Fuck! _Evanesco!" _Nothing happened.

Dudley felt a small amount of fear that the dark anger in Harry's eyes.

"Why don't you try blowing a whole in the box itself, instead of getting rid of the chains?" Dudley suggested.

"Huh, that might work. _" _ Harry pondered over what spell to use

'_Reducto.' _He thought, careful not to put too much power in it. The wood exploded, but the contents of the box remained unharmed. He levitated the chains away.

"Put those in the bag, while I get rid of the other boxes. Don't bother sorting them out now, we'll do it when we get home."

Dudley smiled at Harry calling their apartment home.

'_I guess it is home now' _he thought to himself. He bent down and began shoving books in the bag.

After they were done Harry set the pump sprayer in the middle of the room and began pumping. Gasoline soon began to cover everything.

"You never explained what that was for." Dudley stated, curious.

"To cover our tracks. According to my charms textbooks fire destroys charms and enchantments if they're not protected against it. That means it also gets rid of spell residue. In case the order comes, they won't be able to tell who took the books. Wizards would probably use this method all the time to cover up crimes, but they refuse to think like muggles. They would try using _incendio ,_the fire spell, and that would leave its own residue. "

He walked out of the room, and Dudley followed him. Once they were both out Harry pulled a match and a matchbox out of the pocket of his robes. He struck it, and then tossed it in the room, slamming the door quickly. They could both hear the roar of flames, as fire quickly spread to envelope the room.

Harry kept pumping, coating the hallway, and then the stairs they were walking down in gasoline. He ran out, and gestured for Dudley to pull another can out of the bottomless bag. Harry refilled the pump with it.

"Why are you doing it out here too?"

"I want to make it look like something like an infestation of streelers got in here. Did you read about those?"

"Ya, it's a snail thing that leaves a trail of venom that burns away anything it touches, right?" Dudley was beginning to understand Harry's action.

"Ten points to Gryffindor Mr. Dursley." They entered the library and Harry struck another match and threw it out, again slamming the door quickly. This time there was a rush of flames that got gradually quieter the farther away it followed the trail of gasoline leading to the basement.

"Okay hold the bag out of front in you."

Dudley did.

Harry waved his wand and all the books were pulled off their shelves. Another wave and they zoomed at Dudley who almost panicked.

"Be Still! Hold the bag out!"

Dudley shoved the bag in front of his face again, and the books zoomed into it one by one. He let out a relieved sigh. Harry began spraying the gasoline all over the library.

"Alright Dud, let's get out of here."

They both climbed out of the window. Harry struck his third match and threw it in, before covering both of them with the cloak. They flew off to the roar of an inferno.

* * *

A loud crash awoke Dudley from his slumber. He fell out of his bed in panick, struggling to disentangle himself from his sheets. Another crash, it sounded like it was farther away and below him. Dudley ran out his room, throwing the door open and skidded to a stop before the exit. The door was destroyed ripped off its hinges and fallen in the hallway that led to the stairs. Dudley looked over the railing, and saw that the door to the entrance of the apartment was in the same shape. Tenants were milling about the bottom floor and the stairs, asking each other if they'd seen what happened. Luckily no one had. Only one man was saying he'd seen a large black shape lumber through the door it had knocked down. Dudley ran down the stairs, knocking people to the side who let out exclamations of how rude he was. He looked out onto to the street but couldn't see Harry, or the animal he apparently had become anywhere.

Harry woke up with a groan, sunlight blazing in his face. He opened his eyes, squinting in the light and let out another groan. He was naked, and laying on the ground. This time though, he was laying on soft black carpet instead of a forest floor.

'_good I'm still in the apartment then.' _Harry thought. He got slowly to his feet and heard a cough. He turned around and saw Dudley staring at him from the entrance to his room. The boy looked like he was about to be sick.

"What, have I got something on my face?"

"Why don't you go look?"

Harry walked slowly to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, his muscles screaming in protest, and looked into the mirror. He almost sicked up himself. His face and chest were covered in blood. He opened his mouth and saw that what felt like pieces of rubber to his tongue were really small chunks of flesh stuck in his teeth.

He quickly pulled them off and washed them down the sink, then stepped into the tub, turning the shower head on as hot as it would go.

He punched the wall, and punched it and punched it, with both hands yelling in frustration and feeling his knuckles break. The wall was cracked now in several places. He slid down until he was sitting in the tub, and held his head between his knees, sobbing. The hot water made the torn apart skin on his broken knuckles sting horribly. His blood mixed with the dried blood that was being washed off, and the mixture ran across the white porcelain of the tub and into the drain, leaving a pinkish white stain behind.

'_What have I become?' _ Harry thought, but he already knew the answer.

'_A monster.'_

* * *

AN:

Abeo tu insectas: change to insects. Voldemort transfigured Fudge's fat and the contents of his stomach into bugs. He willed them to be carnivorous.

Lachia: Welsh for slash


	8. Chapter 7: A Dark Lord's Retribution

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

_**

* * *

When Hunting Monsters **_

**Chapter 7: A Dark Lord's Retribution**

* * *

The man turned around, his silver mask gleaming in the moonlight. His eyes widened in fright and he moved backwards, stumbling on his robes and falling on his ass.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _The light fired with such desperation missed its target. There was a deep guttural roar, and claws attached to a large paw smashed into the man's mask knocking him on his back. The mask was ripped off his face and fell to pieces on the forest floor. The man's face was revealed now. Ugly and pudgy, twisted in fear. The other paw came down, and claws slashed through the man's jugular, spraying blood. The light began to leave the man's eyes.

"Come here sweets, what's the matter?"

"Let go of me!" A femine yell in response.

He was in an alleyway now, a large man stood with his back to him, holding a struggling girl who looked a little younger than him with blonde hair and brown eyes, wearing a purple dress. She tried to kick and slap at the man, who grabbed her wrists and roughly shoved her against the wall. The girl looked past the man's shoulder and let out a scream of terror, renewing her efforts to escape.

The man was suddenly knocked off his feet, and crashed backwards into the opposite wall of the alleyway. The girl ran, her heeled shoes clacking against the cobblestone. The man looked up and let out his own scream of terror before shiny white teeth lowered, the jaws of death closing around his life, as the jaws of this great animal closed around his throat.

"_Crucio!" _A snakelike voice hissed. A nondescript woman on the ground screamed, and thrashed in pain, writhing on the carpet. Suddenly she stilled, foam frothing at her lips.

"Get away from her!" A man shouted running at the figure. His face was blurred.

A fick of the figures wand and the man fell on the floor next his wife, dead. His head separated from his shoulders. Blood was pooling onto the white carpet, staining it red.

"_Stupefy!" _A girl shouted. The red spell was knocked aside, and the figure with the snake like voice laughed, waving his wand. The girl was thrown to the floor, joining her parents.

She looked up, her brown eyes dilated in fear, her bushy brown hair fanned out behind her head.

'_As you took from me now I take from you, Harry Potter.' _ The voice hissed.

"_Avada Kedrava!" _

"Nooo!" Harry screamed, jerking out his bed and falling onto the ground, he quickly got up and looked around his room.

'_That definitely wasn't a dream. It was a vision." _Harry thought. _"But is it just a trick?" _

Harry decided it didn't matter. Even if there was only a slight possibility of it being real he needed to find out. He threw on his robes and in his desperation Harry willed himself to where he had been in the vision, disappearing with a loud crack.

He reappeared in the Grangers living room. The first thing he noticed was that their carpet was beige and not white. The next thing he noticed was the head of a stag mounted on the wall. It hadn't been in the dream.

"Hermione! Hermione where are you?!" He shouted, frustrated. There was a pounding of feet and then he saw Hermione reach the bottom of the stairs. She stared at him, shock in her eyes, before running at him and seizing him in a fierce hug.

"Oh Harry, I was so worried about you! Dumbledore said you got captured by deatheaters, and then you escaped, but no one knew where you were! Where'd you go? When'd you get so tall? Why are there tattoos on your face, and why are you wearing deatheater robes?" She fired all of these questions rapidly into his ear, still clinging onto him.

"Jesus Hermione! Let go first and then I'll answer your questions." He laughed.

"Oh, sorry." She let go of Harry and stepped back, blushing. She was wearing a white summer dress that Harry thought looked very nice on here, and no shoes, her feet bare.

"I've been hiding out in muggle London, the tattoos are from a ritual I put myself through, the height is from the same thing, and the robes I took from Bellatrix Lestrange after I killed her."

Hermione looked horrified. She opened her mouth to ask a question.

"I don't really want to explain anymore right now. " He cut her off. She closed her mouth, and annoyed look on her face.

"Listen has there been anyone here, death eaters, people you don't know, anyone who looks strange or out of place at all?"

"You mean besides you?" She joked, grinning.

"Damnit Hermione! This is important, think!"

The grin was wiped off her face. "Um, I'm not sure. I don't think so, but I've been inside all day."

"Fuck!" Harry cursed.

"Harry! Don't use that language!"

Harry was about to make an acidic retort when the door to the backyard opened and a woman stepped in.

"Hermione is everything alright? We heard voi-oh." She saw Harry standing in the middle of the living room.

"Dear, who is this?" Mrs. Granger was slightly frightened at Harry's ragged appearance.

"Mum, this is Harry. Harry this is mum. You two met the summer before my second year." Hermione introduced them nervously.

"Didn't you say Harry still had short messy hair, glasses, and was still scrawny?" Mrs. Granger asked confused. Hermione's parents had inquired about the boy they had met, when they picked her up from King's Cross a few weeks ago. Harry glared at her.

"Oh, um, well he grew, I guess." She fidgeted under Harry's glare, trying not to laugh.

Mr. Granger walked in behind his wife. He was a big man with curly brown hair. He was wearing black trousers, and a burgundy dress shirt. In the dream, he'd been wearing a white one. Harry noticed Mrs. Granger was wearing an expensive black dress, a silver chain around her neck, opal ear rings, and her hair was pulled back into a neat bun.

"Hello! Who is this?"Hermione's dad strode over and stuck his hand forward. Harry seized it, and gripped as hard as Mr. Granger was.

"A good grip you have lad. I like this one Hermione, you can keep him!"

"Dad!" Hermione hissed, mortified. "This is Harry Potter, you've met him before."

"Oh, right." Mr. Granger ran a hand through his hair embarrassed. "I didn't recognize you at all, you've sure grown up."

"Er thanks."

"Well dear we'd offer you a tour of the house, but we really must be going. Hermione's father and I have an appointment at a restaurant in London."

"Honey can't I just show Harry the trophy room?" Mr. Granger begged his wife. "I'm sure we've got time."

Mrs. Granger sighed. "Men! Oh, alright, go ahead then. Be quick though, we don't want to be late. Like we were last time." She directed a glare at her husband.

"Yes dear." He said distractedly and grabbed Harry's arm pulling him towards the staircase. They entered the first room on the left, and Harry's eyes widened in amazement.

Heads of many exotic creatures lined the walls. Wildebeests, tigers, rhinos, giraffes. Stuffed animals stood in life like poses. A lion with a thick mane, a stag. A huge bear caught Harry's eye and he stood transfixed in front of it. It towered above him, standing on its hind legs, at least eight feet tall. It's claws were outrtretched towards him, its mouth open in a silent roar. Harry reached out and touched it. The brown fur was rough and thick.

"Ah like that one do you? He's a beauty, and was a right stubborn bastard. Took eight shots to bring him down."

"Wow" was all Harry could say.

"Come look at this elk over here, I bagged him in America." Harry took one last look in the bear's eyes, and felt something stir inside him, a deep ocean of rage coming to life, surface rippling, and waves crashing. He tore his eyes away, and walked over to Mr. Granger, taking a breath to reign in the primal feelings inside him.

* * *

Harry and Hermione waved to her parents as they drove off in their Mercedes. Mrs. Granger had been somewhat reluctant to leave Hermione by herself with the suspicious looking, tattooed Harry but Mr. Granger had convinced her, whispering in her ear about how Hermione never brought home any men.

"She'll be forty before she's married." Harry had heard him say.

* * *

"So Harry, how exactly did you get here?" Hermione was staring Harry's tattooed hands as they sat on her front porch.

"Erm well I'm not sure, I think I apparated. " He said, scratching his head.

"You what?!" She screeched. "Harry, you don't have a license for that!"

"I know, I know. But I had this vision. Voldemort was about to kill you. I had to get here and find out."

Hermione's eyes softened and she smiled a little. "Well I'm glad you came to check. Thank you." She hugged him. Harry stiffened, uncomfortable.

She frowned at his coldness.

"I know the vision with Sirius was a trick, but I had to check anyway."

"I understand, I would have done the same thing."

"I'm starting to think it was just a dream."

A wolf howled. Harry ran out onto the front yard, staring at the night sky. It was a full moon. He ran over and grabbed Hermione, trying to apparated. With a pop they disappeared but reappeared in the same place. Harry cursed. He looked around wildly, the grangers had another car.

"Hermione do you know how to drive?"

"Um, yes but not that well. Why?"

"Get in the car."

"Harry are you alright?"

"Just get in the damn car Hermione!"

Hermione looked startled and walked over to calm Harry, before noticing the moon, and hearing another wolf howl.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

"What do you mean don't worry about you? Are you in-mmphh"

Harry placed a hand over her mouth. "Hermione if you ever do anything for me, do this, please."

She looked at the seriousness in his eyes, and resigned herself to his decision, sighing, and running into the house to grab the keys, before getting to the car. As she got in there were more wolf howls, many of them.

Harry stood, blood pumping hotly through his body, in his head. Rage began to overtake him as the oversized wolves came closer. They were running down the hill that the Grangers' house was at the bottom of. Harry could see their yellow eyes shining, their white teeth, saliva dripping and flying from their long snouts as they ran. They were close now, and one leapt at him, its jaws wide. Harry gave himself willingly to the abyss consuming him. He threw back his head and roared.

* * *

Hermione watched from the car as the werewolves got closer to Harry. He was just standing there. One leapt at him, and Hermione screamed. She almost opened the door to help, grasping her wand tightly before Harry suddenly transformed. His form shifted and grew, sprouting thick black fur and long claws, a snout. The robes were ripped away from his body. As they fell, a gigantic black colored bear swiped at the werewolf with one paw, and it was sent crashing into the ground. Another leapt and the monstrous bear caught it by the neck with its teeth, shaking it violently. Hermione heard the snap of its neck from the car.

She started the ignition and put the car in reverse, driving slowly so she could see what was happening. The wolves had leapt onto the bear now. One was biting at its legs, while another was on its back, and the third was hanging from its throat. The bear roared and struggled. A wolf ran past it towards Hermione and she floored the gas pedal. The car didn't have enough time to accelerate and the wolf jumped onto the roof, claws scratching and scrambling on metal. She shrieked as they pierced through right above her head, before suddenly being ripped away. There was a whine of a wolf and a roar of the bear, before a sickening crunch. Hermione looked into the rear-view mirror to see that the bear had snapped that one's neck too. The wolf hung loosely from its jaws. Hermione braked and stopped the car so she could see, as ten more wolves encircled the bear, stalking slowly and growling. More wary and cautious now they had lost a number of their pack.

The bear swiped out and the wolf it had attacked wasn't quick enough, howling in pain as it lost an eye. Four wolves leaped at it at once, and the bear attacked furiously, catching one here and there with its claws. When a wolf tried duck in under the bears reach, and the bear caught it with its teeth which were now red with blood. As valiantly as the bear fought a few wolves were getting through its guard, biting and retreating before it could retaliate. The bear kept turning, and Hermione realized the wolves were trying to get behind it so they could hamstring it. One leaped at its side, and the bear caught it with a powerful swing, cutting its throat, and spraying blood in all directions. The distraction however had proved costly, for a wolf had finally gotten behind it. The wolf bit viciously into its hamstring and the bear roared in fury. It spun around , throwing the wolf off, and brought a paw down, slicing through the wolfs stomach. Its entrails spilled out onto the street. The remaining wolves howled in anger. The great bear fought harder now, desperate, and took down more of the foul creatures. Finally only two remained. The last two wolves jumped onto the bear's enormous back, and it fell over, wrestling with them as they snapped at its face.

Hermione saw one of the wolves the bear had felled get to his feet, preparing to pounce. Harry would be overwhelmed.

She swore and turned the car around, before slamming her foot down on the pedal. The car bucked forward and picked up speed as it shot towards the oblivious wolf. The beast finally looked up in shock as the car slammed into it. It rolled up onto hood and onto the windshield, cracking the glass, before rolling off, hitting the pavement with a thud. The car was swerving and Hermione braked and cut the wheel hard, narrowly missing a tree before going back around and running the wolf over again for good measure. There was a _thump_ and then another _thump_ as the tires drove over it.

The bear had finally killed the last two wolves and it lay on the ground, on its back, panting. Hermione watched in horror as it turned a naked, blood covered Harry. She got out of the car and ran over to him, kneeling at his side and cradling his head in her arms.

"Harry please be alright. Say something! You can't die!" His chest was rising and falling slowly. Hermione calmed a little. Her eyes caught sight of his bits and she felt her face heat up despite her panic.

'_Now is definitely not the time to be thinking like that, you pervert!" _Her inner voice scolded her.

"Accio Harry's robes!" She shouted, pulling her wand out. The tattered mess zoomed over from in front of her house. She covered Harry and his multiple bleeding wounds with it. She knew magic could do nothing for werewolf inflicted runes so she didn't try. She ripped off a few pieces of the robe with her wand, and then tied them around the wounds that were bleeding particularly heavy. Harry didn't even make the slightest noise of protest. His wand and a piece of parchment fell out of the torn robes, and Hermione pocketed it before reading the note. It was an apartment rental contract for Building 10236, Suite 316, Charing Cross Rd. London.

"You're gonna be alright Harry, I'm going to make sure of it." She stroked Harry's face, lingering on his closed eyelids, before levitating Harry carefully into the backseat of the car, and driving off towards London.

* * *

Dudley Dursely was sitting anxiously on the couch in His and Harry's living room. He had been awoken at ten o clock P.M. on a whim and had checked on Harry, finding his bed empty. There were however no broken doors or any sign of an animal.

'_What then," _Dudley thought, '_Happened to Harry.'_

He had sat up all night waiting, and sun began to shine through the recently bought drapes when Dudley heard a voice whisper what sounded like a spell outside the door. He quickly got up to go open it, only for the door to open by itself. He was greeted by Harry's floating body, and a girl with brushy brown hair standing behind it, levitating him with her wand. Her hands were covered in blood.

"Who are you?" They both asked at the same time. Dudley took a breath before saying,

"I'm Harry's cousin Dudley. I'm living here with him. What happened?"

"I'm Hermione, his friend from school, and we got attacked by werewolves. Harry fought them off but got hurt badly."

"Why was he fighting them by himself?" Dudley asked angrily. "You're a witch aren't you?"

"Well if you knew anything about magic, which you obviously don't, you'd know that it can't do a whole lot against werewolves!" Dudley backed off startled.

"Now would you show me where his bed is so I can put him down, and attempt to help him?"

"Uh ya, it's over here. Look I'm sorry I'm just freaked out." Dudley walked with her to Harry's room and she set him down gently.

"It's fine, I guess I probably would be too. Do you have a first aid kit or bandages or something?"

"Ya, we grabbed the kit from the hotel where we staying at, and Harry made sure we bought some medicinal supplies while we were in London." Hermione looked slightly scandalized at their thieving from a hotel but didn't say anything.

Dudley returned with the supplies and laid them on the bed. Hermione pulled off the robes covering Harry, and picked up the bottle of alcohol.

"Uh, I don't know how Harry's gonna feel about you seeing him like that."

Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "Well he'll get over it. I'm sure he'd rather this than bleed to death which is what he's currently doing." She untied the strip over his chest, and poured the alcohol into it. Harry let out a groan, but didn't stir.

"I'm sorry Harry, but we've got to get them clean." Hermione muttered, pouring alcohol into the many other wounds covering his body. She marveled at the detailed tattoos, and noticed they'd be perfectly aligned again when the wounds healed.

"I doubt he's even feeling it much right now." Dudley said, putting a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"You're probably right." Hermione picked up the needle and stitching thread, poking the needle through the wound on Harry's chest.

"So what animal did he turn into? I'm guessing that's what happened since magic can't do much against werewolves."

"He turned into a bear. A gigantic bear. And fought off at least twenty werewolves! It was amazing and terrifying at the same time."

"A bear huh? That sounds like Harry."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know, protective. And he's got a temper, really aggressive. Even when he was a scrawny, little runt. He'd try fight off me and all my friends when we were little sometimes. And when he'd help me train this summer he'd occasionally get the upper hand despite being half my size."

Hermione snorted. Dudley's description of Harry was really pretty accurate.

"You know Harry's told me about you."

"He has?" Hermione asked surprised. She wasn't sure why he'd bother telling anything to his bully muggle cousin.

"Ya, he's talked about you a lot. About how smart you, and how good with magic you are. How you've always been there for him at Hogwarts."

"He said that? Wow." Hermione smiled before thinking of something. "No offence but why would he be telling anything to you. From what he's told me you two hate each other."

Dudley looked down, blushing. "We did, but you know, since last summer, when he saved my life I've been thinking about things differently."

"Oh?"

"Ya I mean my parents always made him out to be this freak, a bad kid, and I bought into it. But when I found out what dementors were and what could have happened to me, I realized he couldn't be all that bad. And so what if he's weird? I mean I was ridiculously obese my whole life doesn't that make me abnormal too?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but Dudley didn't wait for an answer.

"And then this summer, he actually helped me with my training and let me help him with his ritual."

"Ritual?"

"Ya he had me help him with this one that turned him into something called an animagus. Someone who can turn into an animal."

"I know what an Animagus is." Hermione said, scrunching her nose. "But you don't do a ritual to become one."

"Harry said the real ones do and that the magical ministry hid that information and gave people a botched up version so they could regulate it."

"I've never heard about that."

"Well Harry wouldn't have either but his godfather left him some books." He handed Hermione the scissors so she could cut the stitching thread.

"Oh." It kind of made sense now to Hermione. Sirius would have access to information like that, growing up in his ancient pureblood house. That kind of information was the kind a muggleborn or even a low class half blood or pureblood would never see.

"So what happened with the deatheaters? Dumbledore came to my house and told me they kidnapped Harry.

Dudley chuckled. "Barely kidnapped. Harry slaughtered all of them. As I was leaving I saw him jump at the last one and stab him. They fell out of the window and vanished."

"The deatheater must have apparated them both before he died."

"Ya that's what Harry said. Except the guy he stabbed lived cus he didn't kill him until he escaped. Oh ya, the one, Bellatrix, apparently managed to survive and get away."

"He almost killed Bellatrix?!"

"Well he did kill her but not til later. When he escaped. He said he choked her with the chains she had him tied up with."

Hermione's face was green and she put the needle and thread down, her hands shaking. She hadn't really been thinking of the werewolves as people but now the truth hit her like a sledgehammer.

'_Oh God,' _Hermione thought. _'Harry killed all those people.' _

Dudley glared at her. "Look I can guess what you're thinking, and you're wrong. Harry's not a bad person. He did what he had to. They were torturing him, and probably would have killed him. Harry may seem dark sometimes, but he's not evil. He's a good person."

Hermione looked unsure.

"He didn't have to make sure I was alright, or look after me like he's been doing, but he did. And he protected me from the deatheaters when they attacked our house. That makes it twice he's saved my life. How many times has he saved yours? Last night counts as one by itself."

Hermione let out a shaky breath. "You're right, you're right. It's just I can't imagine Harry killing people, and I don't want to. But it happened in front of my eyes tonight, and he did it to protect me. I can't think like I used to, because this is becoming a war, and I can't be that soft anymore. You're right, of course you're right. Harry did the right thing."

Dudley handed her the needle and thread she had put down, and Hermione resumed stitching up her best friend. She and Dudley worked well into the afternoon, over Harry's shallowly breathing body. He never once stirred.

*******

An: Nothing to translate this time, haha. Sorry if there's some grammar and punctuation mistakes. My beta is having computer problems.

Thanks everyone for the reviews, and hopefully the story is continuing to be enjoyable. Feel free to tell me if it isn't.


	9. Chapter 8: Mirror Mirror on the Wall

DISCLAIMER: I don't own harry potter

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When Hunting Monsters

**Chapter 8: Mirror Mirror on the Wall **

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The cabin was in the least to say, overcrowded. It's none to spacious walls of timber resonated with the sound of voices that joined the thudding of boots along with howling of wind as the door was thrown open and a few more people in the garbs of robes, hooded cloaks, and pointed hats stumbled in out of the fierce weather.

The cabin was split into two sections, one larger and one smaller which were each split into their own two sections. The larger of the larger two sections was a living area and a kitchen, and the smaller was a bedroom and a bathroom. The few chairs at the table in the kitchen area of the larger section were occupied save one, and the remainder of visitors in the small dwelling were standing against the walls, or leaning against the sink in the case of Charlus Mckennon, whose tall form was stooped as to prevent his head topped with short brown hair from hitting the low ceiling. He was the sole surviving member of the Mckennon clan which had been wiped out during the First War, and had grown up in America among relatives since he was eight out of necessity. Thomas had decided to join the British hit-wizards instead of the American ones when he had heard rumors of Voldemort's return a few years ago and had been living on the isle since shortly after the Dark Lord's rebirth. Just a few weeks ago, at the start of the Summer, Tonks who he recently gotten to know better as more and more often the hit wizards and aurors were being assigned to same assignments, brought him into contact with Moody, and the rest of the Order had welcomed him warmly. Dumbledore especially had found him quite useful. Since his induction the old wizard had been using Mckennon to track down wizards and witches he thought might know the locations of horcruxes or possess memories of Voldemort's past, without really telling the hit wizard about the horrific objects. He'd only give him a name and Mckennon would bring the person to him so Dumbledore could look through his or her mind, then obliviate them and send them on their way. He'd found Gaunt's ring in such a manner, and many memories that turned out to be very significant.

The murmuring and whispers of gossip and rumors ceased as the door was thrown open yet again, and the tall white bearded Albus Dumbledore came to find his place at the table next to Remus Lupin, the owner of the cabin. Dumbledore bore a grim look on his old wizened face, as his blue eyes travelled across the room, taking in the occupants all staring at him expectantly. These few brave or foolish souls were the last defense of the wizard world, the only ones courageous enough to stand directly against the forces of Lord Voldemort, and wise enough to see past the lies of the Ministry. For years since the fall of the Dark Lord, they had hid in the shadows, watching and waiting ever vigilant for any sign of Voldemort's return. Now that it had happened they found themselves wholly unprepared against the crushing darkness threatening to consume everything they knew.

The summer after the Dark Lords rebirth they had banded together, hearkening to Dumbledore's call, but Voldemort had chosen to lay low. The Order of the Phoenix had anticipated his actions, and quickly moved against his plans to bring the dark creatures of the magical world to his side. Their efforts however, hadn't been enough, and Voldemort had secured the Giants, Trolls, Werewolves, and was quickly gaining the vampires' trust. They had at least kept him from stealing the Prophecy, but with his unveiling the Dark Lord struck with a terrible wrath, displaying power of the kind not even the wisest and most foresighted of them had predicted. For while Voldemort had distracted the Order with dark creatures and his attempt to take the Prophecy, the cunning sorcerer had sunk his fingers deep into the ministry. They had known he had some power there, as a few of his Deatheaters held positions. Minisiter Fudge even took counsel often from Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort's chief lieutenants. What they had not known is how many hearts the Dark Lord had managed to darken with his whispers of power and the restoration of a society with those of lesser blood in the positions of serfs, and the pure blood elites as the ruling aristocrats.

One of the main advantages the Order had long held was their members within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and within the Aurors especially. That had been taken from them as Voldemort had somehow managed to sneak his own spies in more powerful positions and the Order found more and more of their information false, fed to them by the willing or unwilling spies of Voldemort. With the eyes of the Phoenix blinded, they had no way to react quickly enough to the Dark Lord's movements, and were caught unawares when he so quickly attacked Madam Bones, and then Diagon Alley, taking Ollivander the wand maker. More attacks followed and the Order would find the Deatheaters gone before they managed to determine their location.

The Dark Lord's power and cunning was most clearly demonstrated in his ability to divide his enemies and deteriorate their moral. With Harry's kidnapping they had begun to suspect spies of the Dark Lord within their own rank, as there was no other conceivable way for Voldemort to have pulled the maneuver off so quickly. Their trust in each other was quickly diminishing with these thoughts.

Fletcher, who was only there to alert the Order in the event that something went amiss, would have been killed if not for the actions of a gruesome vigilante whose identity they were still unsure of. Not since the days of Fabian and Gideon Prewitt had they heard of such violence being wreaked upon the deatheaters. Even so, they had all rejoiced upon hearing of Harry's escape, only for the high spirits to be dashed about a week ago when they received grim tidings and a call to another meeting.

"My friends, " Dumbledore's ancient voice rang out through the cabin. The Order found themselves steeled in its strength. "You've all heard the surprising, or in some cases expected news that has prompted our gathering."

Moody stepped forward from the wall, eye spinning. "I kept telling you he'd move against the Grangers, but you went ahead and warded the Weasley's instead! Why would he bother attacking wizards to draw Harry out when he could attack muggles?!"

"As I've told _you _Alastor, I had been planning on moving Harry to the Weasleys' before things went so swiftly astray. I rightly believed protections around the Burrow necessary in that case. I do admit however that the blame lies with me for not thinking of warding the Grangers after Harry's kidnap and escape. I've had many other….things that have kept my mind quite preoccupied." Dumbledore rubbed his blackened hand underneath the table. The pain never seemed to go away.

"Is-is Hermione okay?" Arthur Weasley questioned shakily. His wife sitting next to him was pale, and would not look up from the table.

"When we arrived Hermione wasn't there, neither were her parents." Tonks spoke up, Mckennon who had been with her and the other aurors, nodded his head.

"There were though, many carcasses of werewolve's lying throughout the neighborhood. We counted twenty-two."

"The packs, especially Greyback's, whose numbers have been increasing with each passing day, travel in groups of twenty-five, or not at all. A few must have escaped whoever slaughtered them." Remus stated.

Mrs. Weasley moaned in despair "They took Hermione and her parents then!"

"I'm not sure about that." Mckennon's American accent contradicted the hysterical women. "I questioned one of the muggle residents of the neighborhood who witnessed a great deal of what happened. He was half crazed but I managed to get from him that Mr. and Mrs. Granger left about ten minutes before he looked out his window and saw a bear fighting with a pack of wolves, before the bear changed into a heavily wounded, tall, dark haired young man. His first thought had been to run out and help him but upon stepping into his yard he said he saw the Granger's girl 'mutter a word of nonsense' and float him into their car with a stick before driving off with him. He had to be obliviated, obviously. Another point to consider is that I'm sure if Voldemort had the girl we'd have heard something by now. It's been a few days."

Everyone except Snape and Mundungus Fletcher, who appeared to be asleep, looked both relieved and very concerned. A few people flinched at Mckennon using the Dark Lord's name. Thomas didn't care. Hate he felt plenty for Voldemort, but no fear or respect.

"My first thought is that the rescuer must be Harry but that doesn't really match his description. He's never been a tall boy, nor is he an animagus." Dumbledore said confidently. Remus was looking down now at the old dusty table, hiding the panic in his eyes.

"Do you think perhaps, that it's the same person who killed the deatheaters at Privet Drive?" Snape asked. Remus had always tried to treat the man kindly and was letting him sit at his table. Snape strongly suspected it _was_ Potter, and he and therefore Dumbledore knew the boy had gotten taller, but Snape also knew Dumbledore didn't want the rest of the Order to see the boy as a murderer. Amusingly, many of the members gathered there would have approved of his actions. Snape figured Dumbledore didn't want to admit it because it'd be admitting that he failed Potter. Failure wasn't something the old wizard handled well.

"That seems most likely. Since he saved Miss Granger we can assume that he's probably staying with or knows where Harry is. This bodes well for Harry. I was before very worried that there was no one to protect him." Dumbledore's voice sounded satisfied, which irked a few of the people present.

"I don't think he needs protectin if he managed to get out of Malfoy Manor. How many deatheaters did he kill fightin his way out, Snape?" Moody cast a shrewd glance at the Potions Master. The sly and paranoid old auror was quickly coming to conclusions about the game Dumbledore and his pet snake were playing. Mckennon narrowed his eyes at the back of Moody's head. he was catching onto Moody's line of thinking.

"I know only of Bellatrix." Mrs. Weasley let out a gasp, and the candlelight revealed many of the Order member's eyes widened in surprise. "I had to leave soon after I freed the boy of his chains and wasn't able to witness his departure. The Dark Lord has since been in a terrible rage and has sent many away, and has not called on me, so I have no way of obtaining knowledge of any more .. _casualties_." Snape lied smoothly.

"How did he manage to kill a skilled Dark Witch like Bella if he was chained up?" Remus asked.

"They were both quite nude and Bellatrix was advancing on potter. From appearances it seemed she was attempting to moles-"

"That Bitch!" Molly Weasley screamed, getting up from her seat. Tonks' hair was red as well as her face, and the other occupants looked as if they didn't know quite what to say.

"-ting him." Snape finished, casting an amused glance at Molly. "That got her close enough for him to wrap the chains around her throat. I'm surprised the boy had enough strength left in him to strangle her. It looked like he'd been tortured excessively." A wicked grin was on his face as Mrs. Weasley looked like she was about to explode.

"Severus that is quite enough." Dumbledore said sternly, looking Severus in the eyes over his half moon glasses perched on his crooked nose. Lupin's face was white with rage, his face twisted into a murderous, animalistic snarl. His fists, lying on the chipped, worn table, were balled up so hard the knuckles were white and veins were clearly popping out. The anger of the order members in the room close to Harry was apparent and almost palpable. Suddenly the candles on the table and on the shelves of the kitchen flared, and a few Order members leapt out of their chairs and away from the walls. Diggle squeaked as his pointed hat caught aflame and he quickly removed it from his head and rushed it to the sink.

"You're a _wizard_ you fool, use your bloody wand!" Snape shouted at the idiot over the running water. Diggle muttered something embarrassed and incoherent before casting a drying charm at his thoroughly soaked hat.

Very abruptly the wizards and witches were distracted from the amusing spectacle by a silver blur that rushed through the front door and solidified into a lynx upon the table.

"Dumbledore we've found Harry, unfortunately the deatheaters found him first. From the spells the monitors are picking up it appears there's some fierce dueling going on, send Tonks to me I'll need her. Keep Mckennon, he's still supposed to be on that bogus case I assigned him so he could follow that lead of yours. Hurry Tonks! The portkey will be ready in a few minutes." Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice echoed off the walls.

Tonks got quite quickly out of her chair. As she rushed by him, she felt Mckennon press something into her hand and she instinctively slipped it into her robes' pocket before running out of the door and apparating to the Ministry.

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A few days earlier…

Voldemort was long past frustration in his failures regarding Potter. Never once had a plan regarding the boy gone right. Even the one time he had managed to capture him, it took the deaths of a handful of his followers, and then the boy escaped, killing a few more. Now he had sent _a whole pack _of werewolves and Potter had managed to slaughter them. He wasn't sure if any of his inner circle could have pulled off such a ridiculous feat.

'_At least I had Grayback send a minor pack and not his own. Though the old wolf may have succeeded where the others failed.' _

The Dark Lord stopped the train of thought and stared into the fireplace of the Malfoy's study. A head was staring back at him, beginning to blacken as the skin was charred. The hair was already burned off, and the features of the face unrecognizable. It belonged to one of the werewolves who had managed to live, the pack leader. The fireplace was constructed with a bottom that opened up to a deep empty space underneath it. A body could be fit into this space and the head would stick out into the fireplace from a hole that closed around its neck. He had put the werewolf in there alive, and it had screamed for a long time, only stopping just recently.

The other few who had survived he had given to his deatheaters. They so hated the half breeds. Voldemort could feel the hate and disgust whenever they were forced to be into the same room together. He felt how they wished so strongly to kill the mongrels on sight, only holding back because they knew it would incur the Dark Lord's wrath to kill other followers without permission. The smell emanating from the fireplace filled Voldemort's nostrils and he inhaled sharply, taking the scent of burning meat deep within his lungs before breathing out slowly.

It wasn't even that he thought Potter so important. He was but a boy; a skilled boy by all means, and perhaps a burgeoning dark wizard, but of no real importance. He had never really worried about Potter before, as he had always managed to prevail through luck, and by relying on wizards much greater than himself to come to the rescue. These last few weeks however, had changed Voldemort's perspective of Potter as he had not had any help, yet he had escaped him, killed his servants. But that also was really nothing special, merely a surprising change in the boy's character. His father before him had escaped his dungeons once, and many of his servants had been killed in the last war by formidable wizards; those few on the side of the light who had had the steel composition to do what was necessary to win.

But the Prophecy, of which he only knew a part of, nagged at him constantly, filling him with a sense of foreboding. He knew the contents had to have been in Potter's mind. Dumbledore had to have told him. But he had hesitated in delving too deeply to glean the truth from the boy's eyes, remembering the soul tearing pain he had experienced when last he was in Potter's head. He had felt it then, a bit of himself, and the agony as it tried to flow back into him. The horrible love the boy had been feeling and thinking had attempted to mend the Dark Lord's soul, thrusting the discarded soul shard in the boy's head back at him, making him feel remorse. It would have killed him. That he was sure of. But he had pulled away, and much of it had fled back, but much of it had escaped into him. Outside of Potter's mind, absent the power of love, the diminished piece of soul had not enough strength to force the joining, but still it had tried.

Terrible had been the Dark Lords suffering as for long hours he grappled with it, desperate to prevent the re-bonding that could have destroyed him. Finally he had managed to wrest it again from his own soul, and into a material container. He had destroyed it then, watched as dark Fiendfyre conjured from his own wand destroyed a piece of himself. He had thought about joining it to one of his horcruxes but it was too unpredictable now, had been with Potter for too long, and had been tainted by his _love. _Regrettably there had been no choice but to destroy it.

He had not guessed before that there was a piece of himself in the boy. Looking back, at times he had felt it but had never come to the right conclusion. But he should have known. He had been attempting to make a horcrux that night, it was only logical that the piece of himself he had separated would go into the babe when it had nowhere else to go. Voldemort had himself been reduced to mere shadow and vapor, and had fled immediately in horrible pain. Now that he considered it, some of the most painful moments of his life seemed to be tied to the boy.

But he was so drawn to him. That was really why he desired so much for Potter to be by his side. Something had to have happened to the remains of the piece of his soul within the boy because when he had been near him he could not sense it. But in a way he still could. It was different, like it was him but it was also Potter. A distinctly different person, but yet the presence of himself was even more pronounced then it had been when there was just a piece separated from the rest of Potter's soul. Now it was as if the piece had _blended _with the boy to the point where it was unrecognizable, but yet still very familiar. Perhaps the horcrux, so weakened after the events at the Ministry, had not enough power to remain itself and had assimilated with Potter's own soul. That would explain his recently developed taste for violence, and for dark curses. But so would becoming an animagus in the method Potter had chosen if the animal was a particularly fierce one. Judging by Amycus's mauled corpse it was. He would have no way of really knowing until he could fully examine Potter. He should have done so when he had him captured, but arrogantly he had thought he would have much more time, and hastened to meet with the vampire Elders instead.

The Dark Lord's wrath at the death of his lieutenant was starting to vanish. Bellatrix had been a loyal follower but nothing more to him, and she was broken by Azkaban. Her usefulness had been rapidly departing, as so clearly demonstrated by her failures, and by her death at the hands of a prisoner who she had chained and powerless. It was only by her mistakes that Potter had been able to kill her. She had had him at her mercy but because of her lust of the flesh, her weakness in her obsession and desire to have something resembling her master, she acted foolishly and paid the price for it. If Potter had not killed her, He surely would have anyway.

The Dark Lord took a breath and steadied himself. One mistake in what he was about to attempt and he might find a repeat of the horrible agony he'd experienced at the ministry. He'd been fortunate so far in his mental forays, but fortune one does not rely on wisely.

* * *

Harry found himself walking. He recognized the road he was on as the one that led to Privet Drive. The sun was glaring down at him, distorting the air in front of his eyes, heating the pavement under his bare feet. But he walked and walked under the angry summer sun, feeling no weariness or thirst. Eventually he come over a hill, and saw at its bottom a car he recognized to belong to the Dursleys. The car was pulled sideways almost off the road, as if it had been veered to a sudden stop. There was a barricade of cones and signs in front of it, and off of the opposite side of the road a bobby's car sat in waiting. He watched as the bobby got out and began speaking to someone in the Durselys' car. As Harry got closer he could hear his Uncle's voice replying.

'_What is this?' _Harry thought. '_Did Vernon and Petunia somehow survive? I'll have to tell Dudley when I get back to the apartment, he'll be so happy.'_

The bobby pulled a gun out and Harry ran forward alarmed. As he pointed the gun at Vernon Harry charged him, seizing his arm, but the bobby threw him off easily and Harry barely caught himself to prevent his face from slamming into the asphalt. He got to his knees and for the first time looked down. He was somehow his scrawny 15 year old self again. His tattoos were gone, and all he was wearing was a bed sheet wrapped around his waist.

"You cannot stop this." The bobby said calmly and pulled the trigger as Harry lunged again. Two shots fired and Harry watched as his Aunt and Uncle's horrified expressions were wiped away as their skulls expelled gore all over the inside of the car.

The man had somehow moved quickly away and Harry had missed in his lunge. He was on his knees now, staring up into the bobby's red eyes. The man was standing in front of Harry in such a way that the sun's bright glare cast his shadow directly onto the boy, enveloping him.

"This was my gift to you Harry. Do you not like it?" The voice coming out of the man's mouth was smooth, serpentine, and familiar.

Harry felt rage course through him, but he was unable to move from his kneeling position.

"You just shot my relatives you sick fuck!"

"Ah Harry, but did you really consider them such?" The smile on the Bobby's face was sinister

"I-" Harry found he didn't really have an answer.

"Did you Harry not sometimes desire to do what I just did? Did you not sometimes sit in your cupboard at night after your Uncle beat you and denied you dinner when you had labored all day like a house elf, and wish for the feel of a gun in your hands so you could end his pathetic life?"

"How did you know that?" Harry asked weakly. The ground felt like it was falling away beneath him as the memories came unbidden and he recalled his horrible years at Privet Drive, the dark places his mind had taken him when he was but a child.

"At the Department of Mysteries Harry I saw in your heart and mind much love, but I also saw much more hate." The bobby threw the gun aside and leaned down, grasping Harry's chin and looking into his green eyes with his red ones. Harry felt like the eyes were boring into his soul, stripping away the layers he had constructed to hide himself, to reveal the truth.

"Just last night you tore through a pack of werewolves like they were nothing. A group of _men_ you killed, men who have wives and children and other loved ones. But you enjoyed it immensely, didn't you? You felt not one ounce of regret as you slaughtered these human beings like cattle. Tell me Harry, even in my most extreme moments of sadism, where is the difference between you and I? What is it that makes you believe I'm of worse character than you? "

"I killed them because I had to!" Strength returned to Harry's voice with his epiphany. "If I hadn't done something they would have killed Hermione!"

"Oh is that why?" Voldemort's questioning smirk was amused. "No, I don't think it is. I think you wanted to kill them, wanted to feel their throats beneath your teeth, wanted to taste their blood. After all, there are other ways to stop a man or beast besides killing it. Dumbledore's taught you at least that much I know."

Harry couldn't deny the truth in that statement and looked down saying nothing. Hopelessness started to envelop him. He really was a monster.

"But don't despair my dear boy. The two of us are not so evil as you're so eager to think." Harry looked up again confused.

"As I've told you before there's no such thing as evil. Such black and white inventions are indeed just that, inventions of men who cannot grasp the creator's image, the plan that's been set before us, the will that not one of us can avoid."

"What are you talking about?"

Voldemort let go of Harry's chin and stood up and stepped backwards, throwing his arms out beside him as if gesturing for Harry to look upon a great kingdom.

"What I'm speaking of Harry is our purpose! We're put here on this earth, premade with all our inclinations towards violence, our vices, and our thirsts for power to act as gears in an inevitable machine. We exist to spur on the rest of mankind towards progression! Without us, the world stands stagnant and the human race moves not forward. The will of god, or the gods, or the universe, or whatever deities you happen to prefer depend upon people like us. What you call evil Harry is merely a tool beyond our understanding. Whatever suffering we cause, is a necessary unpleasantry in a greater picture of unimaginable beauty that even I cannot fathom. And our brushstrokes upon this painting will be the greatest, for only we have the iron wills and the power to achieve it!"

Harry became lost in Voldemort's voice, his words filling Harry's head with visions of what could be achieved. A better ministry put into place, if only a few were killed. Muggle wars ceasing and a time of peace established with the governship of wizard kind over the rest of the world. It would require much death and pain but in the end it would be worth it. The words spoke directly to his soul, his desire for a justification for his actions, his desire not to have to look upon himself as a monster. His urges to kill, his lust for power were ok because that's how he fit; it's what he was designed for. As he looked into Voldemort's eyes and the great picture was revealed to him it was as if he was looking into a mirror and seeing a reflection of himself, what he could become.

"I give you one last, final offer. Join me and realize your potential, fulfill your purpose in this world." Voldemort reached down and plucked a flower from the grass beside the road, and held it in his open palm towards Harry. The wide spread yellow buds caught the light of the blazing sun and shone golden.

"Or stand against me and watch everything you love, everything dear to you in this life fall to ruin." The hand closed and the flower was crushed. Voldemort dropped it on the road in front of Harry. As it touched the sorcerer's shadow upon the ground it was suddenly black and withered, dead. "For going against my will is going against that of the gods; I stand only in accordance with them. The choice will soon be upon you. Do not tarry when the time comes."

At these last words the bobby with the Dark Lord's eyes began to dissolve, along with the road Harry was kneeling on, the cars, and the sun, and the blackened flower. The color in the surroundings bled away into white, and Harry was thrust violently from the land of dreams.

* * *

"Hermione! Get over here I think he's waking up!" Harry's ears interpreted Dudley's voice as a distorted blurry noise. The red brick walls, and the ceiling spun around him as he opened his eyes, before they settled into a still picture. Hermione's smiling face was now above his.

Harry shook his head confused. The only thing he was certain of was that he was back in his room in the apartment.

"Hermione? How'd you get here?" His voice was weak, his throat scratchy.

"I found your address in your pocket, and drove you here after you killed the werewolves. "

'_oh that's right._' Thought Harry. '_the werewolves I enjoyed killing so much_.' The memory was really quite hazy to Harry but he could remember bits and pieces, the joy he had felt as he bit into furred throats, and the blood spraying everywhere. There had been so much of it that night that it had appeared in the air like a red mist, and the smell still lingered in his nose, and on his tongue.

"Would you like a glass of water?" Hermione must have interpreted his licking of his lips as thirst.

"I'd prefer whiskey actually at the moment." Harry joked. Hermione frowned.

"I'll go get some," Said Dudley, getting up from his chair beside the bed and walking to the kitchen.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, scandalized.

"What?" He asked, smirking.

"You haven't been drinking have you?"

"So what if I have? If you knew what I've gone through this Summer you wouldn't begrudge me of needing a little extra help falling asleep at night, or just staying sane, which I'm not sure I've managed."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes and she looked away.

"I'm sorry, it's just-"

"It doesn't matter, I figured you'd react like that. Always been a goody two shoes you have."

Harry moved to get out of the bed but winced, feeling a pain stretch across his chest. He looked down and saw he was covered in bandages but naught much else. He glanced under the gray, bloodstained covers to find the same thing.

"What the bloody hell? Who did all this, and where's my clothes?"

Hermione blushed. "When you transformed back you were nude, and you were covered head to foot in wounds. When I got you here I cleaned you up, and stitched and tended to them as best I could. Dudley helped too. I wish I could have healed them better with magic, but it doesn't do much for werewolf inflicted bites and cuts. Sorry."

"Wow Hermione thanks, I probably would have bled to death if it weren't for you." He couldn't imagine how much work stitching his whole body up must have been, but he was a little embarrassed at her seeing him in the buff and looked down at the covers, not meeting her eyes.

"Ay, what about me?!" Dudley acted offended as he appeared back in the room, handing Harry a glass of ice and whiskey, which he began to sip on.

"Ha, thanks to you Dudley. " Hermione stared on disapprovingly at Harry's consumption of alcohol but didn't say anything.

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked

"Almost four days, you didn't stir once except to mumble incoherently in your sleep. Made Hermione anxious you did." Hermione shoved Dudley embarrassedly as he laughed.

"Damn, that's a long time. Wait Hermione, what about your parents, do they know you're here?"

Her eyes widened comically "Oh wow, I completely forgot, I should probably go call them." She got up and left the room, and then the apartment. They heard her footsteps down the stairs.

"Does she know where the phone is?" Harry asked, swinging his legs out of the bed and standing up.

"Er ya, she's been to the store a few times, what are you doing?" Harry had struggled himself painfully into some clothes, repaired his shredded robe and pulled it over his head, and was now gathering things around the room into his trunk. He picked up his wand and waved it. All of books flew off the bookcases adorning the walls and into the bottomless bag lying inside the trunk.

"I can't stay here, with you and Hermione. It's too dangerous."

"What the fuck, Harry, where are you going to go then?!" Dudley had followed Harry out into the living where he had set his trunk down and was summoning everything else he needed.

"I- I don't know, I'll find somewhere but I have to be alone, I can't put other people in danger like this." He didn't want to tell Dudley that was only part of the reason he was leaving.

"That's some fucking bullshit! Look we can reinforce the doors or whatever, we'll do something, but I'm not letting you leave!"

"You're not _letting me?_" Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at his cousin.

"That's right, because you're being a coward right now-"

"Shut up Dudley." Harry growled

"Running away from your problems. You think Sirius would be proud of you righ-ughh!"

Harry slammed his fist into Dudley's jaw and the boy stepped back, clutching his face. He looked up and a glint appeared in his eyes before he let out a yell and charged Harry, wrapping his arms around his cousin's midsection.

They fell backwards over the back of the couch and rolled off it, crashing into the glass coffee table which shattered upon impact.

They rolled around, wrestling on the glass shard covered carpet before Harry managed to circle his arm around Dudley's neck and under his throat. He levered himself, cutting off Dudley's air and blood supply and the boy wheezed, struggling futilely against Harry's strength and throwing wild, desperate punches.

* * *

"Hello?" The deep male voice on the other end of line questioned.

"Hey Dad, it's me."

"Hermione? Where the hell have you been?" Mr. Granger sounded angry.

"I've uh, I've been in London with Harry. Look, I'm sorry I forgo-"

"Oh, so you just decided to run off with your wizard boyfriend without telling us?" His voice was quieter now, but still very angry.

"Dad, he's not my boyfriend."

"Like hell he's not your boyfriend, why else would you run off with him?"

"Dad, it's not like that." Hermione was close to frustrated tears, it was clear she wasn't getting through to him.

"Do you know worried we've been?" It was Hermione's mother now. Her voice sounded desperate and choked with emotion.

"We came home and the car was gone, and the police were there. They said there'd been packs of wild dogs fighting, and we haven't heard from you in four days!"

"Mum those weren't dogs."

"What were they then?" Asked Mr. Granger

"Werewolves, they were after Harry, but Harry killed them. He was injured badly though, so I took him here, to his apartment so I could take care of him. It's not like I could just take him to a muggle hospital."

There was silence on both ends for a moment.

"Are you there?" Hermione asked nervously.

"I can't take anymore of this." Mrs. Granger said. She heard her dad call to her to no avail.

"Your mum just left. Hermione, why were there werewolves after Harry?"

"Well, you know how Harry's famous for defeating a Dark Lord when he was a baby right? Well this Dark Lord obviously doesn't like him very much and keeps doing stuff like this to him."

"That kind of defeats the whole purpose of being defeated."

"Ya well, he's kind of rising to power again."

"Well isn't that just fucking brilliant. Why didn't you tell us about this sooner, this seems like something you should have at least written home or told us about."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. It's just I didn't know how to tell you, and I was scared you wouldn't let me go back to Hogwarts."

"Hermione…" Her dad sighed. "We might not understand a lot of things about the wizarding world but we wouldn't do that to you. If your ministry is letting this school stay open then I'm sure it's protected right?"

"Yes of course, Voldemort wouldn't ever go there, the wards are really strong and he's scared of Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Ok whatever. The point is we wouldn't just rashly do something like that, you should have told us about it, we're your parents, we have the right to that kind of knowledge. And you definitely should have contacted us as soon as you were going to London."

"Wouldn't you have been mad I was going by myself with Harry? I mean you already jumped to conclusions about it before you even knew anything."

"No, I was just angry because I was worried. You're a big girl, if you want to stay the night with your boyfriend that's fine, just let us know where the hell you're going so we don't worry."

"Dad he's not my boyfriend. I just told you that."

"Ok ok whatever, keep your pretenses, I don't care. When are you coming back?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure. Harry's still in pretty bad condition, and I don't really trust his cousin to take care of him."

"Wait are you talking about the cousin that Harry hates? If Harry moved out, which is what I'm guessing, why would he be there?"

"Uh, they've gotten closer after Harry's Aunt and Uncle died."

"Oh…So, Harry fought off a pack of werewolves by himself? Why didn't the wizard police come, and why weren't you helping, you can do magic."

"Well first of all, I'm guessing the aurors did come if you were hearing that it was a pack of dogs. Whenever something like that happens they make the witnesses memories to think it was something more mundane."

"That sounds like the Men in Black or something."

"Ya exactly. But anyway, I didn't do anything because werewolves are resistant to magic. Also animals don't catch lycanthropy from werewolf bites, and Harry can turn into a huge bear so he did that and fought them."

"Ah, well that's handy." Mr. Granger sounded impressed.

"Alright Dad, I'm gonna go, I'll call you tomorrow alright?"

"Ok, I'm going to go try to calm your mum down."

"Haha good luck, bye, love you!"

"Love you too."

Hermione hung the phone up and made her way back up the stairs and down the hallway to the apartment. She opened the door and screamed.

* * *

Harry stopped choking Dudley and looked up. Dudley pushed himself off of Harry and rolled onto his back gasping for breath.

"What the hell is going on?!" Hermione shouted, running over to them and kneeling by Dudley.

"He- wa – was – trying – to – leave. We – got ina fight." Dudley managed to wheeze out. Hermione glanced at Harry who didn't meet her eyes.

She pulled her wand out and pointed it at Dudley's arm which was bearing a cut from the glass.

"No Hermione, don't!" He grabbed for her wand.

"_Epiksey_!" It was too late. The cut on Dudley's arm vanished, leaving only the blood that had welled out.

"God Fucking Damnit!" Harry grabbed his hair in frustration, and stood up.

"Harry, language!"

"The fucking _Trace _you genius!" Harry hissed, punching the wall. She just stared at his back bewildered.

"Wha-"

"The _Trace, _what the ministry uses to track underage wizards and witches. Voldemort and Dumbledore have people in the ministry and they're both probably watching your trace since I'm sure they were able to guess that you're with me. Now they'll both be able to find us." Harry was leaning in close to her face now, anger in his eyes.

"I-I forgot, I'm sorry!"

"Harry back off, it was just a mistake." Dudley grabbed Harry by his arm.

"Shut the bloody hell up Dudley, this is your fault anyway." Harry pushed his cousin away ,picked his wand up out of the remains of the wrecked table before grabbing his trunk and making to walk out of the apartment. He only needed one trunk for all his things now that he had the bottomless bag.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Somewhere where the deatheaters won't find me with you two. You both should probably leave in case they make it here before the Order."

"It's a little too late for that, I think." All three of the teenagers heads whipped around to the open doorway where a deatheater stood in long black robes similar to the ones Harry was wearing but in much better condition.

"Yaxley." Harry said coldly, recognizing the deatheater's voice and glaring at him. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand.

"Have you made your choice, boy?"

"Yes. I-"

Yaxley was suddenly grabbed by the throat and slammed into the wall. He tried to bring his wand up but his hand was banged repeatedly into the wall until the wand fell to the carpet. Dudley had made the choice for Harry. Yaxley made muffled, strangled yells as he tried to wriggle out of Dudley's grip but the small man wasn't making any progress.

At the commotion, more deatheaters began to pour through the doorway, and Harry quickly blasted one out with a "_confringo!",_before blocking a curse with a silent '_protego'. _Hermione had ducked behind the couch and was firing curses and shield charms as quickly as she could while Harry levitated random objects and sent them flying at the deatheaters or in front of him to block curses. There was a shout of pain as a steak knife found its way into a deatheater's chest.

Hermione cried out as a slashing curse made its way through the couch and cut her arm open. She dropped her wand and the deatheater who was taking cover just behind the doorway decided to go in for the kill.

The deahteater's wand began to glow green as he started to incant the killing curse, but Harry sent a skin flaying curse at his opponent who fell to the floor screaming before leaping at Hermione's and tackling him into the hallway. They both struggled for a few moments on the ground before Harry kicked the deatheater off of him and got to his feet. The deatheater did as well and shoved Harry into the wall but Harry's fist crashed into his nose, and the stunned man stumbled backwards. Harry tackled him again but this time they hit the banister and toppled over.

They fell three stories, and Harry managed to get man under him just before they imapacted the ground with a series of _cracks_ and _squelshes_. Harry coughed and spit out blood before rolling off the man, who was definitely dead. He didn't bother removing the deatheater's mask to find out who he had just killed but got shakily to his feet, groaning in pain. There were at least a few things broken in his body. These recent injuries along with the ones he still hadn't recovered from almost made him unable to move but he struggled through it. He needed to get back to Hermione and Dudley. Harry noticed several of the apartment doors were opened and tenants lay dead on their floors or in the lobby or on the stairs.

Pops sounded around Harry as he limped his way back up the stairwell and he looked around alarmed as wizards and witches in red robes began appearing to duel the remaining deatheaters. He stumbled over a body and watched as a pink haired auror some ways up the stairs took on a deatheater only for another one to sneak up behind and point his wand at her back.

"_Defodio!" _Harry cried out, thrusting his wand savagely. The deatheater was blasted backwards in a bloody mess along with the wall behind him. There were distant crashes and thuds as the brick wall followed by deatheater's destroyed body hit the ground of the alleyway outside the apartment. Sunlight shone in the new hole, and Tonk's opponent stared in shock over her shoulder. She quickly took him out with cries of "_Stupefy!" _and _"Incarcerous!". _Then she turned around and flashed Harry a grin.

"Thanks Harry!" With that Tonks ran up to help out another auror who was engaging two deatheaters at once on the hallway of the third floor. Harry ran past all of them into his apartment, barely managing not to trip over Yaxley's body before stopping and taking in the scene in front of him.

Dudley was out cold not too far from him and had a gash on his head that was bleeding heavily, but there was color in his face so Harry assumed in relief that he wasn't dead. Past his cousin's prone form in the living room Hermione was dueling fiercely with four deatheaters. There were two more who were lying quite dead on the floor. One was stabbed and bloodied all over with shards of glass, and the other's head was facing the wrong direction.

Hermione didn't stop in place for even a second and was moving around quickly dodging curses, her wand twirling and her mouth spitting out spells rapidly. One deatheater had a flock of yellow birds attacking his face savagely, another was busy for the moment repelling an attack from an armchair that had grown teeth and was trying to sink them into the deatheaters legs. Harry could see that it had been successful a few times. An assortment of furniture was coming at the deatheater from different directions, and the coat hanger got behind him, wrapping itself around the deatheater and pinning his arms to his sides so the rabid armchair could continue its feasting unchecked.

The remaining two deatheaters were taking turns shielding against Hermione's curses and firing them back at her. It was clear Hermione was losing the upper hand, and she was falling back towards the kitchen, desperation in her eyes.

"Drychu!" Harry growled out, slashing his wand in the air, and the wand arm of the deatheater cursing Hermione closest to him was lopped off. The man screamed in pain as blood pumped out of the stump that was left. Harry slashed his wand again, shouting the same curse and the screaming was silenced as the deatheater's head slid off his shoulders.

The other deatheater turned to him in rage with a cry of "Crucio!" But Harry dodged the curse and thrust his wand with a silent _'Expelliarmus!' _

The man flew backwards into the wall, his wand sent in the opposite direction, and Harry strode towards him. Wrath stirred inside him as he recognized the pathetic wizard's voice.

The deatheater looked up into Harry's eyes and seemed to see something that terrified him for he tried desperately to scramble away.

Harry however was having none of that, and grabbed the man by his red hair lifting him up and ripping the mask off his face. The sticking charm yielded to the magic in Harry's anger.

"I bet you regret now, taking that mark." Harry whispered into the man's ear.

"Yes! Yes! Please don't kill me Harry! Please do-"

"_Silencio." _The scared deatheater's mouth kept moving but the words quit coming out.

"Kill you? No, I'm not ready for you to die quite yet. _Legilimens!" _Harry hissed staring into the man's terrified brown eyes and thinking of what he wanted to see in particular.

There was the strange sensation of the joining of wills, but hardly a struggle as the weak willed man barely put up any resistance.

A room slowly formed out of mist around Harry and he looked around. He was sitting at a desk, forms and papers before him. There were shelves and filing cabinets on the walls, and awards on the bare spots. Harry saw several _Employee of the month _and one _Employee of the year. _

'_You'll always be but a desk jockey, whoever else you form ties to." _Harry thought. A paper bird flew its way into the room through the open door, and the body Harry was temporarily inhabiting grabbed for it, unfolding it and smoothing it out on the desk, before taking out a vial of green potion and sprinkling some on to the blank parchment. Words promptly started to appear.

_The Granger girl's Trace finally showed signs of activity so here are the cooridinates like you asked for. I'd better get that salary increase you promised you'd talk to Minister Scrimgeor about. - Malfalda Hopkirk _

The coordinates were on the bottom of the page and Harry spared them a glance before withdrawing from Percy Weasley's mind.

"You fucking Weasel!" Harry shouted, punching Percy repeatedly in the face and then whipping him around before again grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head into wall.

Harry let go and Percy fell to the floor.

"You're a disgrace to your whole fucking family you sorry piece of shit!" Harry kicked the traitor hard in the ribs, and there were several audible _cracks. _Percy didn't even offer any protest as he was quite unconscious. His face was a mush of beaten flesh and broken bones, and blood was pooling from his cracked skull.

Harry lifted his foot to kick again.

"Harry that's enough!"

Hermione had bound the remaining two deatheaters and was staring at Harry in horror. Harry put his foot down and turned around, looking her in the eyes and struggling with his wrath. He walked past her, not saying anything and knelt down besides Dudley, healing the wound on his head and ennerverating him.

As Dudley groaned on the floor and began to sit up, Tonks walked through the entrance of the apartment and shut it behind her, staring at the room with wide eyes, her wand hanging by her side.

"I think you guys should probably get out of here."

"What you're not gonna try to bring me back to Dumbledore?"

"No." Tonks shook her head. "I don't think that's the best idea right now for any of you. The order isn't safe anymore."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked alarmed.

"I don't have time to explain, the other aurors are busy securing whats left of the deatheaters. They'll be up here soon though, but here take this." She handed Harry a note that he unfolded to find a pendant in the shape of some kind of bird.

"It's a portkey to a safe place, the note will explain the rest. Hurry, go!" Hermione drug Dudley over and placed his hand along with hers on the pendant Harry was holding.

"Wait, Tonks what was the first spell you ever used in front of me?"

"_Pack!" _Tonks grinned at him and at her utterance of the spell the portkey emanted a bluish glow that quickly enveloped the three teens.

Harry saw the door the thrown open and several aurors hurry in. Kingsley shacklebot looked straight at him and yelled words he couldn't hear. The tall auror's hand reached out futilely to grab Harry just before the world disappeared around him in a whirling rush.

* * *

An:

Drychu: Welsh for hew, amputate, or lop.

Sorry this chapter took a little longer to publish than the previous ones.


	10. Chapter 9: It's not Safe to Swim Today

DISCLAIMER – I don't own Harry Potter

_**

* * *

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_**When Hunting Monsters**_

**Chapter 9: It's Not Safe to Swim Today **

* * *

"Knight to E4!" Ronald Weasley shouted in glee. "Check!"

'No, you idiot, not there!" The high pitched voice of the knight protested but his horse moved across the board anyway. Ron never listened to the chess pieces as they were more often wrong then they were right.

"Ah, it seems you have me in quite a pickle." Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully while studying the board. Ronald's knight was in position to take his king.

"Bishop to A3." Dumbledore decided. Ron watched in amazement and disappointment as the white bishop slid across the board and struck down his black king viciously with its staff. It didn't stop until the black king was broken into pieces, and then the bishop turned and grinned up at Dumbledore.

"Alas even the most skilled amongst us must sometimes fall in order to rise up again improved." Dumbledore looked upon Ron with a kindly smile. "You must always be careful when you move to attack an enemy that you're not merely playing into their manipulations. Voldemort himself is quite fond of the maneuver I just used, except he uses it of course, on a much grander scale than a chessboard."

With a wave of old wizard's wand the board and pieces disappeared just as the door opened and Order members began filing in. The meeting was taking place at the Weasley's abode now. The fireplace had no fire burning as it was the middle of summer, and the setting sun shone through the window glistening off the scrubbed wooden table. The great clock on the wall showed that the only Weasleys home were Arthur, Molly, Ron, Bill and Ginny. Percy's hand pointed to Mortal Peril and Molly had been glanced at it and then burst into tears several times throughout the day. Neither of Ron's parents had said anything about it and he found himself quite ill at ease. Something serious had happened that he had no knowledge of.

"Ronald out you get! I need you to de-gnome the garden, they've been eating the potatoes again." Mrs. Weasley came bustling in, wisps of her red hair sticking out of its bun, and her green robes whipping around her as she levitated a large pot of something or other over to the stove. She set it down and flicked her wand making the burner start, and a large wooden spoon floated itself in and started to stir the contents of the pot. Another wave of her wand and a cookbook zoomed from the stack above the mantelpiece of the fireplace and into her grasp.

Ron groaned and made to leave, his chair legs scraping across the wood of the kitchen floor.

"Mayhap Ron can be of some assistance to us. Would you mind terribly Molly, if the de-gnoming were to wait just awhile?"

Mrs. Weasley looked first at Dumdledore with her hands on her hips, and then at Ronald with a strange expression. Her face seemed to twitch for a moment before she gave in and threw her hands in the air.

"Oh, go on then! Heavens forbid anything gets done around here!" With that Molly retreated back to her cooking. The rest of the Order members had come to sit at the table. Not as many of them were present as last time. Only seven of the eight chairs at the table were occupied. Arthur Weasley looked curiously at his youngest son who he was not used to seeing at Order meetings. Ron just shrugged his shoulders in response. Molly waved her wand a few times and seven cups flew out of a cabinet and onto the table, before a jug levitated over and started pouring itself.

"Albus is it true what I've heard?" Remus looked desperately at Dumbledore, seeking for reassurance to the contrary.

"I'm afraid everything you've heard is quite true. Harry indeed killed many of the deatheaters that assailed his apartment, and his cousin and Miss Granger managed to take a few themselves. I dare say they may have been able to escape on their own, but they were lucky indeed the aurors showed up. They deatheaters came in great numbers."

"Ha-harry killed deathetears? And Hermione is staying with Him and Dudley?!" Ron was completely bewildered as he had heard none of this.

"Dumbledore why do you have a child-"

"Kingsley, after viewing Harry and Hermione's actions can you really count them as children?"

Kingsley didn't say anything. He was very cleary troubled at what he had seen.

"Young Harry rescued Mrs. Granger from a pack of werewolves about a week ago and they've apparently were staying with his cousin in a muggle apartment until they were attacked again. As for why you have not received word of this news concerning your friends from your parents' lips, that I am unsure of." Dumbledore glanced sharply at Mr. Weasley who looked abashed.

"Are you certain then, that it was Harry who killed the werewolves and the deatheaters at Privet Drive?" Arthur asked, not really able to comprehend that the boy he knew could do such things.

"I heard from Greyback himself that it was Harry he sent the pack after, and it was definitely Harry who killed them. A few managed to escape and report back to Voldemort, before he killed them himself for their failure. Which means that Harry is an animagus and has to have been studying the Dark Arts to know the curses we've seen used." Remus said. He still didn't want to admit even to himself that It was the trunk he'd given Harry that probably made all this possible.

"With that information and Harry's more recent actions I can come to no other conclusions but that it was Harry in every occasion. He's displayed quite a willingness to so casually end the lives of others, and in a very painful fashion." Albus sounded angry and upset.

"Maybe if ye showed the same willingness we wouldn't be in this mess in tha first place!" Moody shouted, thumping his fist on the table. "If Potter had been stunning the fuckers he'd be dead many times over by now! This is a war you old fool, people have to die for one side to win!"

"Alastor you know my feelings on this subject, I will not argue on it." Moody harrumphed and crossed his arms. His magical eye stopped spinning and settled pointing straight at Dumbledore like it was glaring at him, while his normal eye was looking at the flask he brought to his lips. Molly was standing at the stove behind him, and clicked her tongue at the paranoid man's blatant disregard for the butterbeer she had set out for him. Moody ignored her.

"Professor Dumbledore, what happened to Harry and Hermione, where are they now?" Ron asked. He looked like he was about to be in tears.

"When we arrived Potter was on the stairwell fighting deatheaters. He blew one that almost killed Tonks out of the building and then ran past us up to his apartment. By the time we got up there he had slaughtered the deatheaters left fighting the Granger girl, and had pulled out a portkey. Tonks and I had almost reached him but they got away. We don't know where, the location was untraceable." Shacklebolt sounded frustrated.

Ron's mouth was hanging open at this news.

"At least Harry's violence only seems to be directed at deatheaters, and he saved Tonks, isn't that good?" Bill Weasley asked from the other end of the table.

"Yes of course, but I think he acted a little more harshly than necessary. Only one deatheater was left alive, barely. But he did show great skill, several of the deatheaters he killed were ones that have routinely defeated my aurors. And oh yes, Yaxley is now dead." Shacklebolt stated, he sounded kind of happy.

Cries of "Harry killed Yaxley?" and gasps of astonishment were heard across the room.

"No , his death was actually at the hands of Potter's cousin. From what we've gathered it seems he took him by suprise. Fitting I suppose, since Yaxley is the one who imperiused the muggle police officer to kill the Dursleys."

Everyone except the people who already knew all this looked if possible even more astonished.

"Who was the deatheater left alive?" Bill asked curiously.

Shacklebolt stared at Bill confused, not sure what to say.

"Your brother Percy." He decided on. He looked at Mr. Weasley as if asking him why on earth Bill didn't know this already. Arthur just looked down at the table, ashamed for a second time. Molly started to sob loudly and ran up the stairs.

"_You lie_!" Bill stood up, knocking his chair over. It crashed onto the floor. His face was white with rage and he pointed his wand at Shacklebolt. Everyone sitting at the table became deathly silent, and not even Molly made a sound.

"I assure you William, that Kingsley is indeed telling the truth. Your brother Percival was found badly injured with the Dark Mark on his left forearm. It was he who passed Harry's location onto Voldemort. He is currently awaiting trial while he is being treated at Saint Mungos." Dumbledore used his best gentle and placating voice while motioning for Bill to sit back down.

"It is not wise Bill, to point your wand at an auror. Especially while at the same time questioning his integrity." Kingsley's voice was quiet but threatening. He was confident Bill wouldn't curse him but he withdrew his wand and held it in his lap under the table just in case.

Bill stared at his father for a moment before turning quickly and throwing the door to the backyard open before exiting and slamming it closed behind him. They could hear the shouts of angry curses and the explosions upon their impact on whatever trees or ground Bill was victimizing.

Ron looked sick and like he wanted to follow Bill but remained in his seat.

"How do you know it was Percy who gave the information to Voldemort?" Remus asked.

"He confessed it when he was healed enough to speak. Potter looked inside his mind and found it out for himself according to Percy. That's why he was beaten so badly. You're lucky Potter showed some restraint and your son isn't dead Arthur."

"I admit I'm grateful, and I know Harry only held back to spare us the grief, but I'm not sure right now whether I'd rather he killed him or not. I've never been so disappointed in my life." Mr. Weasley was still looking down at the table, and his fists were clenched in his lap.

"If you had been there, you'd be more careful with your words Arthur. You wouldn't wish what Harry wreaked upon the other deatheaters on your son. Such savagery and carnage I've not seen often, even during the First War. I can only guess at what evil has taken grip upon Harry's soul that he's able to commit such foul deeds. No man with a heart could so callously perform the atrocities I witnessed. " Shackelebolt spoke vehemently.

"You've been an auror for a long time, I'll give you that much Shacklebolt. But never have you been in the _oh so loving _hands of the deatheaters. A week or two with that scum will turn a man's heart to stone it will! I know that much too well. They don't deserve your pity, and Potter is justified in everything he's done. An attitude to the contrary will be why we lose this war, you mark my words." Moody rubbed his shoulder at some phantom pain, both eyes looking upon times far off in the past, times he wished he didn't remember.

Shacklebolt looked irritated at the lecture but seemed to take Moody's words into thought.

"What do we do from here Albus?" Remus asked, there didn't seem to be any hope in his eyes. Maybe the deatheaters deserved what they got but Remus wished desperately that Harry hadn't been so broken that he felt such a need and drive to give it to them. If what Shacklebolt said was true then Harry's life was already destroyed, and all that was left was a shell filled with hate and revenge.

"What say you, young master Weasley?" Everyone at the table turned and looked at Ron who'd been silent in surprise. He looked up equally surprised but spoke after a few moments of thought.

"Well you're never gonna reach Harry. If he's determined to be hid, and if he's got Hermione with him then you'll never find them. She's probably looked up the _Fidelius_ spell and I don't doubt she could pull it off. "

"I don't doubt it either my boy. What then do you suggest we do?" Dumbeldore pressed on.

"Well I guess all that's left is to turn your attention to You-Know-Who. Maybe get rid of the spies like _Percy _in the ministry."

"Oh, and how are we do to that? If such a thing were so easy as you imply it'd be done already." Shacklebolt said scornfully. Ron's face turned red.

"Well maybe you're just not going about it right. If you set up a trap to lure the spies out, maybe have certain people who'd have access to things like whatever monitors the Ministry used to find Harry fed false information, and see if the deatheaters act on it. I don't know maybe you could even rig the bloody monitors to say Harry was somewhere and make sure the people you suspect saw it, and then have aurors waiting at the location to see if anyone shows up. Then you'd know for sure who the spies are."

Arthur looked at his son astonished, as if seeing him for the first time. Dumbledore and Remus smiled at Ron and Shacklebolt looked impressed.

"Tha boy's got a point." Moody said gruffly. He was leaning back in his chair now and smoking his pipe. Rings drifted into the air from it as he puffed.

"I concede defeat. I have to admit I never would have thought of such a ploy." Shacklebolt said humbly. The glint in his eyes was almost as bright as the golden hoop in his ear reflecting the light of the setting sun. He'd soon have the rats in the Ministry at his feet.

Ron looked down blushing, embarrassed but happy. Maybe now they'd use his idea and it would help Harry.

* * *

**_A day earlier_**

The three teens looked around in amazement as the whirling stopped. They seemed to be in a cave, but the entrance was sealed, there was no way out. The only light was Hermione's "_lumos"_ and Harry looked at her sharply as she cast it.

"I don't think we have to worry about the Trace now, Harry."

He didn't say anything but kept looking around. Giant stalagmites rose from the floor and equally monstrous stalactites hung from the ceiling so that Harry felt as if he were in the maw of some great beast. The only noises were their quiet breaths which seemed to echo and reverberate in the silent cave.

"It's a maze." Harry stated.

"What?" Dudley asked confused.

"The paths through the stalagmites and stalactites that join into columns are arranged in a maze, I can already guess that from here, and if you walk up to where I'm standing you can see that here you can go right or left."

Hermione and Dudley walked closer and noticed his observation. I'll go left , you two go right. Make a lot of noise with your wand Hermione, if you two find the way to the center before me."

Harry lit his wand and walked left before Hermione or Dudley could say anything. He was still quite angry at both of them.

'_Just like my luck for everything to go this fucking wrong' _he thought. '_Hopefully I get stuck somewhere lost, so there's no chance of me eating Dudley and Hermione. If only Hermione wouldn'tve cast that spell. We could have gone our separate ways, and I could have found Voldemort so I could have taken the role I obviously belong to. A fucking monster. ' _

But Harry had begun to already doubt the influence that had crept into his mind from the convincing dream. Maybe Voldemort was wrong. Maybe he could learn how to control the animal inside him. _It's our choices who make us who we are. _Dumbledore's words echoed around his skull and he felt ashamed of himself.

'_Am I so weak that I can't make the choice to control myself? So weak that I give in to Voldemort's lies that easily?" _Harry punched a stagalmite in frustration and the ancient stone cracked beneath his fist, his magic seeking an outlet in his anger.

Harry opened his fist and realized he was still holding the pendant and the letter which was now crumpled. He put the pendant in his robes, smoothed the note against the stagalmite and shone the light of his wand on it, beginning to read.

_You know how compromised the Order has become. Harry Potter cannot be kept in any of our hideouts, I don't care what Dumbledore thinks. His foolish optimism blinds him to what's right in front of his crooked nose. I have my own place, deep underground that I won't be using as I'll be gone for the next month or so probably, and after that I'll only be in and out. My lair is protected from any kind of detection whether physical or magical, and has every ward or enchantment anyone could possibly think of. I think it's better he go there, then be put into a place where traitors can reach him. Also you know Voldemort has his hands in the ministry. If he's killed one of his followers who happens to be an official then they will use that against him, and Scrimgeor and Dumbledore won't be able to do much about it. The pendant your holding is a portkey, set a password and give it to Harry then speak it, he'll be transported to the entrance, and he'll have to find his way through a maze, but it's not too hard. _

"Fuck!" Harry cursed and punched the stagalmite again. The note didn't even have a signature. _'At least whoever it was seems to be in the Order.'_ Harry thought. He used the point me spell to make sure North was in the same spot, and set off.

Harry had had to double back several times but finally felt like he was approaching the center. He had noises and seen glimpses of creatures with pincers, or shining teeth but they had all scuttled or ran away from. Harry was feeling every single one of his wounds, new and old, and blood dripped from various places onto the ground. He could feel that his black robes were drenched with it around his chest. Harry turned a corner and stood still in amazement.

He was looking upon what seemed to be a lake, but not like any he had ever seen. There were strange silver orbs of lights that floated just underneath the high cavern roof of the area that stalagmites hung from, and there were more floating closer to his level, brushing up against his robes but not burning them. He put out the light of his wand in deference. The water sparkled and shimmered and Harry wondered if it was from the light of the orbs or its own innate brightness. In the middle of the lake was a small island, and the perfectly circular lake was enclosed with the caverns walls. The only way out was the way he had come.

"_Come to me Harry." _A melodious voice called to him and he looked towards its source entranced. There upon the rock of the island stood a strange but beautiful woman. She had pale white skin and shining red hair that hung down her back and was wearing a white dress that covered her feet. Her hair seemed to glow like a soft fire, and the shade of red deepened and lightened with every flickering orb of light that passed her. The woman's eyes were a vivid emerald and Harry realized he knew her. It was his mother.

"_Come to me," _She sang again and he seemed to hear it in his mind as well as echoing all around him.

"_Let go of all your troubles, your weariness. Come rest forever in peace." _

Harry stepped forward into the water, and waded towards her. The robes up to his knees were becoming soaked, and he found it hard to push through the liquid but he desperately struggled forward. Despite its crystal appearance it felt like it had the consistency of mud. With every step he took, the lake got deeper, and the more lightheaded he felt. It was almost up to his chest now. He was almost there, was reaching for her outstretched hand.

"Harry! No don't!" A feminine voice screamed and hands grabbed his arms pulling him backwards and he struggled against them. He was dragged back through the water until it was knee length, and Harry pushed with his feet against rock floor of the lake, trying to dive back in, but arms circled beneath his armpits and hands locked behind his head, keeping him unable to move except to kick his legs slowly in the thick water.

The woman's face twisted in anger and her eyes changed from emerald to flame. To Harry they seemed to burn with the fires of hell.

Her face morphed into that of a vicious snarling bear's before again morphing into the snakelike face of Lord Voldemort.

"_I've seen what's in your heart, I know what you'll become." _It sang but it's song was terrible now, all encompassing, deep and terrifying as it reverberated off the stone walls and through Harry, Dudley, and Hermione's minds, their very souls. It was joined by hundreds of little voices, like the buzzing of many wasps, and the orbs of light began to burn angry dark shades of red and orange and swirled around the teens so they felt as if they were in an inferno, receiving the judgment of a furious Goddess.

"_Your evil should not be allowed here!" _The inferno spun faster and faster and the Voldemort look alike was in the air before them. The face morphed back into the woman's but Harry wished it hadn't. Her beauty was now even more terrible to behold, as her eyes glowed, and her hair whipped around her. Her whole body seemed to be wreathed in dark flames. The water Harry was soaked in began to boil wherever he was injured, and the wounds seared, acrid smelling smoke rising from his body. He fell slack in Dudley's grip screaming in pain, but his voice went unheard amidst the demonic orchestra.

"_I only grant you safe entrance because you bear the pendant of my master, which he could part with willingly. But know this mortal. Should your control lapse while in my dominion my wrath will be terrible and swift, and not even my master will be able to protect you from my power!" _

The terrible song seemed to reach a crashing climax in their ears and hearts and the strange creature along with the orbs of hellish light vanished, leaving them in absolute darkness.

All three of them of them stood there silent, Harry and Hermione not even lighting their wands until they heard the rumbling of stone, and a light seem to shine up into the room from the center of the cavern where the island stood. The whole area was illuminated again, and Harry got to his feet, panting. They made their way towards the source to find a stone stairway, spiraling downwards. They glanced at each other before Harry started his way down, and the other two followed.

* * *

**_Back to present time _**

"So they got the portkey?" Charlus Mckennon asked from his chair.

"Yes, yes. Geez I'm not that incompetent." Tonks was laying on her bed in St. Mungos. She had gotten hit by a few nasty curses that needed treatment. The white walls and tiles of the hospital room were boring the hell out of her and her hair was cycling rapidly through different colors. She was sitting crosslegged on top of the green sheets, and was leaning back on the pillow against the iron headboard. Her wand was in her hand and she wave it around, drawing amusing pictures in the air to entertain herself. She was no artist but her stick figures were highly detailed.

Charlus grinned. "I never said you were, I just desired confirmation."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to your accent, it's pretty much the only American one I've heard."

"I can try to make it more British if you want." Charlus smirked.

"Nah, don't bother, it's nice hearing something different." She chucled to herself and Charlus let out a snort as the picture turned into fat stick figure with a bowler's hat bending over a desk, with another stick figure with long yellow hair standing behind him grabbing his hips. She waved her wand and the image began to erase. Tonks reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a glass of water, taking a sip. The water spilled on her green hospital robes, and Tonks waved her wand quickly drying them, her cheeks and hair blushing in embarrassment. Charlus pretended to not notice her clumsiness.

He fed an owl treat to Hedwig who was sitting on a perch next to his chair.

"You know I completely forgot about his owl when I cam up with this plan last minute." Charlus stroked Hedwig behind the ears and she hooted in happiness. Tonk's hair faded to pink before sharply contrasting to dark green, and growing down to her shoulders.

"You knew Harry had an owl?"

"Dumbledore's mentioned it. He's talked about the boy a lot."

"That's not suprising, Harry's really important to him, like a grandson or something. And Dumbledore seems to think that whatever was in that prophecy orb makes him important to this war too. He's the only who's heard it though."

"Do you think he told Harry?"

Tonks snorted, "I doubt it. Harry didn't even know _there was _a prophecy until going to the Ministry."

"Ah true, I bet that whole thing could have been avoided if Harry had known."

"Probably but it's too late to change things now. Hindsights fifty-fifty like the muggles say."

Charlus laughed, "It's twenty-twenty Tonks."

"Oh." She said her hair again turning red. They both stared in silence at Hedwig who was munching on her owl treat.

"So How did Harry duel yesterday, did you see him?" Charlus asked, his voice heavy with interest.

"Ya, he was amazing, saved my life even. I got sloppy and a deatheater snuck up behind me."

"The others aren't so at ease with his brutality, I talked with Shacklebolt. He wouldn't say much but seemed very disturbed."

Anger flashed in Tonks' eyes. "Well that's why Sirius is dead. No one really wants to fight the deatheaters on their own terms so we suffer all these losses and they just get enneverated or when they do get captured the bloody snake faced bastard breaks them out! But it's ok cus Dumbledore says we can't let ourselves become like them because then there's no point in fighting. That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard! We're not the citizens, we're the soldiers, our job is to sacrifice our humanity so other people can have theirs and their freedom. If we don't kill the deatheaters they'll just keep killing us and then they'll be no soldiers left to fight for these idiots."

"I agree with you Tonks. These deatheaters gave up their humanity when they took the mark. What their master seeks is to rid himself of his human nature, which he sees as a weakness and his followers think he's going to share that with him. Lord Voldemort doesn't share power, and they'll find that out soon enough, but in the mean time they don't deserve our pity. The only thing they deserve is the swift hand of justice." Tonks stared at him, impressed with his words.

"Wow, you're pretty deep."

"Haha, sorry, I got carried away." He ran a hand through his brown hair embarrassed.

"No it's alright. Hey so where exactly did Harry, Hermione and Dudley get sent?"

"Deep under the earth. Technically the caverns are directly underneath Scotland, but miles and miles down, and the area is sealed all around. There's no way in and out of them except through apparation or portkey, and you have to be keyed into the wards. If they touched the pendant then they are, and the creatures protecting the entrance will leave them alone."

"What about the maze? You said something about that in the note right?"

"Ya, the maze is actually pretty easy, it's the things that lurk within, especially within the center that are dangerous. I don't think Voldemort could even make it through alive."

"Woah that's pretty intense! Are you sure whatever is in there will leave them alone?" Tonks looked at him with concern.

"Absoutely, everything down there takes orders from me. It's pretty cool."

"How in the hell do you get into situations like this?"

"I guess it's become a bad habit of mine over the years." He flashed her a roguish grin and patted her shoulder before getting up out of his chair. "Tell Remus I said Hi."

Tonks stared at Mckennon bewildered as he disapparated with a crack. Two seconds later the door opened and Remus Lupin stepped in.

* * *

_**Past **_

"_lumos" _ Harry's wand lit up, and Hermione's followed suit.

"What the hell is this place?" Dudley's voice echoed off the stone walls of the vast hallway. Columns lined the way either side of them, and led to a roof far above their heads that they couldn't even see, only darkness. They had climbed a long way down the stairs, and the journey felt like it had taken days. Harry had tripped and stumbled many times in his weariness and the other two had to catch him so he wouldn't make the trip much quicker than he intended.

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's very old." Hermione was studying the intricate carving on one of the columns. The first two columns depicted scenes of little bearded men hunting with bows and axes, and then on the next being greeted by very tall men bearing gifts. High above Hermione's head on the last two columns were carved two thrones. A little man sat in one, while a tall man sat in the other. They both bore crowns and scepters.

"We can study the artwork later, I want to find a bed." Harry's voice rebounded back to them. He had stumbled his way to the end of the hallway. They hurried up to catch up with them, the echoes making their steps sound like those of giants while the gargantuan space made them feel like dwarves. They reached Harry to find him staring at a huge wall. It towered up into the darkness above their heads and filled the width of the vast hallway. Upon its surface were swirls and interlocking circles of some strange language. Most circles had their own circles within them and they all connected to a circle directly in the middle of the hallway, at about the height of Harry's waist. The small circle had an empty space cut into it in the shape of a bird.

"Well it's obvious what we do here." Dudley said.

Harry nodded, pulling the pendant out of his robes and placing it into the cavity. Light shone from it and sped upwards and downwards in a line, hitting the floor and just touching and illuminating the ceiling high above them. The line divided the wall into two halves, and the circles of strange script began spinning and then stopping one by one at an extremely fast pace. There were hundreds of successive gongs and chimes at different pitches and volumes, forming a strange tune as each circle spun to its appropriate position and then finally the light disappeared, leaving only the lights of Harry and Hermione's wand which showed where the line had been the wall did not exist anymore, and what remained were two giant stone doors that began to slowly grind open.

* * *

**_Present-after events at St. Mungos. _**

"My Lord, the Old Fool knows nothing of the boy's whereabouts. It seems Potter's proved more cunning then he's been in the past, and had a portkey prepared. Shacklebolt and his aurors couldn't trace it."

Snape was kneeling before Voldemort, his head bowed in deference. They were in the Malfoy's study and the Dark Lord was reclining in the luxurius armchair, his bare feet in the thick plush. Nagini lay on top of them, her length circled around his chair. She stared up at Snape's bowed head, her tail flickering, and Snape averted his eyes. There was something about how the serpent felt eerily similar to the Dark Lord that greatly disturbed him.

"You're quite fortunate Severus in that you had nothing to do with this matter." Voldemort raised his silver steaming goblet to his lips and drank deeply from it. Snape wasn't sure he wanted to know its contents.

"I'd like to think myself capable of capturing a sixteen year old schoolboy without much trouble."

Voldemort laughed, a high cruel sound. "Perhaps you would be. You have after all often proven more capable than many of my servants. But you should also take into account that Potter is no longer a mere schoolboy, no more than I was at his age. " The Dark Lord waved his wand, conjuring another chair opposite from his, and Snape took the cue, getting up from his knees and sitting in it.

"You think the boy that much changed then?" Snape made his voice sound disbelieving and surprised.

"Think?" Voldemort scoffed. " No, I know. It'd be impossible not to see it. But you have not seen the boy, so you'd have no way of knowing."

"Has he gone dark?"

"Oh yes. Dark as the night that currently surrounds the world outside these walls. A beautiful thing it is to behold. My only regret is that he's proven quite obstinate to persuade to my side. I thought I had him, saw in his eyes he was convinced, but recent events display a different reality."

"What would you have me do my Lord?"

Voldemort stared at Snape thoughtfully over his goblet, and Snape could see the calculating glint in his red eyes. The steam rose up from the goblet, diluting and somewhat obscuring the crimson gaze, but the malevolent will of the mind behind it shone sharply through to Severus whose own mind was always reaching out around him and discerning the truth in false expressions and smiles of cunning.

"As perceptive as always my dear Severus. A trait you know well I value highly. And as sharp as the blade of your mind is, the shield also, is always ready to be raised high in defense, and the cloak of obscurity draped constantly about its shoulders. That you are talented is unquestionable, but what remains doubtful in my heart is whether such talent can be trusted."

Severus's hair hung about his face like curtains, but he brushed it aside and met the red slits with tunnels of black, feeling the demonic awareness slide greedily into his own. Reality and perception bended and twisted but for a moment before realigning themselves. The presence hungrily invading his mind and drawing out his secrets stayed. Even after it left a residual horrific taint would long remain.

"Have I not always served you faithfully? Divulged to you everything in my knowledge? It is you I serve my Lord. It is you whose will and purpose I am but a tool of, eager to be wielded by your hand." Truth rung in the words, and Severus kept his gaze steady though he longed to tear his eyes away from the twin pools of flaming evil boring deep into his soul.

Satisfied, the terrible awareness drew itself out of Severus slowly like a great serpent slithering backwards on its belly full of prey.

Severus's long fingers released their vice like grip on the arms of his chair, his body sagging forward and his head dropping, sweat dripping down his chin and the black curtains of his hair.

"It is true you've long been my faithful servant, a fact which will not be forgotten, and will not go unrewarded." Snape looked back up at Voldemort, his eyes showing a hint of curiosity.

"I had planned to send you to parlay with the vampires, as I will be too busy to see to it in the coming weeks." Snapes eyes widened in horror. "But I've reconsidered, and I believe I have a more.._lucrative_ task for you my snake."

"My Lord?" Snape was much relieved, but still left curious to his task, though he was now beginning to guess at it.

"I wish for you to remain at Hogwarts. It's my belief that Potter will return there, despite the turns this Summer has taken. And when he arrives I want you to keep careful watch of him. When the opportunity arrives you shall strive your utmost to draw his mind ever towards the dark, towards me. For now that is all, but I will have more for you when my plans develop more fully."

The task sat well with Snape. His vow to Narcissa kept him glued to Hogwarts and he wasn't sure what would have happened had Voldemort assigned him elsewhere.

"I will see it done." Snape kneeled forward out of his chair before the Dark Lord, taking Voldemort's hand in his own and kissing it before standing up and exiting the study, his black robes swirling around him.

* * *

**_Past_**

The room was huge, the ceiling invisible, shrouded in darkness like the one in the hallway had been. Chandeliers were attached to chains that hung from the darkness above, and the bulbs on them flickered on as the doors shut behind them. They seemed to be electric. The walls bore similar carvings that the ones in the hallway did, depicting more of the history of the people that had lived here.

The left side of the room appeared to be some type of huge living room. On this side there was a large ornate fireplace, and above it a giant flatscreen telly was mounted on the stone wall. Stylish furniture adorned the carpeted area before it, creating a comfortable and luxurious atmosphere. A grand piano sat in the upper left corner, its black finish glistening under the chandelier light. The whole place seemed a strange blend of archaic and modern.

The rest of the area reminded Harry of the great hall in Hogwarts. There were long wooden tables with benches. Some tables were set much higher and others much lower. At the end of the room opposite the way they had come there was a great table with two thrones behind it, and a few more chairs to the left and right. The right wall bore many iron doors. A few of them were open and led down lark dark halls.

A loud barking, and the clacking of claws on stone suddenly began to echo down one of the open hallways to them as a large dog rushed out of it, spittle flying off its jaws. It was a Rottweiler from the looks of it. A snarl rose up in Harry's throat and he fought the urge to lash out at the dog. It stopped and cocked its brown and black head staring at him warily, its hackles raised, before it turned to Hermione and began sniffing her outstretched hand.

"Oh, its name is _Crixus_!" Hermione said, bending down and reading the shining silver tag on its spiked collar. "What are you doing here all by yourself boy?" Crixus just thumped his tail as Hermione scratched behind his ears.

"It probably belongs to whoever this place does. Man I wish I was him." Dudley stared in awe around him. Such grandness and opulence he could have never imagined.

"I wish I knew who _he _was. Not knowing whose house I'm a guest in doesn't sit right with me." Harry ran his hand over the smooth surface of the piano, staring at it darkly.

"Oh lighten up, you're just mad cus that fairy scared you." Dudley joked, looking around for a remote to the telly. Hermione paled at the mention of the demonic thing they had run into.

"It looked like my mother." Harry said softly still looking down at the piano. Dudley stared at him dumbly, his mouth forming an O shape.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry I didn-"

''It's fine, but I'm about to fall over. You think we could find wherever the rooms are now?"

"Er alright, but how are we supposed to do that?" Dudley stood up from the recliner he had sat down in, and was scratching his head.

"Crixus can you show us where the rooms are?" Hermione asked sweetly, baby talking the huge dog. She was still standing by the tables where they had first come in, the dog in front of her. Crixus stared up at her vapidly and barked. A string of drool fell from its jowls and plopped onto the stone floor.

"Hermione the bloody dog isn't going to show us where to go." Harry said annoyed, running a hand through his hair, and walking over to her. He really did look like he was about to fall over any second.

"Oh alright! I just thought he might be a magical dog or something." Hermione said, staring disappointed at Crixus who just wagged his tail.

"No that'd be too fucking easy."

It was Dudley who first found the bedrooms. They had spent more then an hour searching through the long seemingly unending hallways and had found many things first. A forgery they had stumbled upon, and an indoor training grounds and armory. Dudley had been ecstatic to find it had been modernized with a boxing ring and exercise equipment. They had almost lost Hermione in the library, which made the one in Hogwarts look puny indeed. Eventually they decided to split up and Dudley had come upon the bedrooms down the third hallway. He had claimed the first one and had immediately shut himself inside.

Harry stood leaning against the doorway to his room, and Hermione stared at him in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Just so tired 'Mione." His voice was quiet and sounded broken, defeated.

"Here." Hermione pulled Harry's arm over and opened his door, helping Harry over to his bed which he promptly collapsed on. The black sheets matched his robes. Like in the living room, lights had flickered on when they walked in but this time came from lamps standing by the door, and one on the bedside table. The stone floor had the fur of a bear thrown at the foot of the bed which Hermione thought highly amusing. On the wall to the right of the bed was a fireplace, which Hermione lit with a flick of her wand, and on the other side of the room was an open door that led to a grand bathroom. The bed was firmly in the middle.

"Sit back up." Hermione ordered tugging on his arm. Harry groaned but complied. "You can't sleep in these, they're soaked with blood and water, you'll get sick. And I need to change your bandages." She bit her lip in thought. "I guess I can conjure some."

She pulled the robe over his head and gasped.

"Looks like there won't be any need." Harry said. Where the wounds had been there were only ghastly scars trailing over his muscles of his stomach, arms, shoulders, back and neck. Looking at his face she noticed the few cuts she had stitched up there the same thing had happened. What Hermione found strange though was that the ritual tattoos seemed to run over the scars when it should have been the other way around.

"How did this happen?" Hermione asked, completely befuddled. She took the wands, note, and the bottmomless bag which he had put his trunks in at some point out of his robes and put them on the bedside table.

"The lake. The water cauterized all the wounds when she got angry."

Hermione stared at Harry in horror, "Oh God, that must have hur-"

"Not anymore than what I've put myself through." Harry laid back and closed his eyes.

"Harry you need to get rid of those trousers as well, they're completely soaked too. And your socks and shoes."

"_Jesus_ what are you my _mother_?!" He bit out in frustration.

"Well I don't want you to get sick, I think I've had to take care of you quite enough already."

"Finnneee," Harry pulled his trousers socks and shoes off and laid back again, determined to go to sleep. The wounds on his lower half seemed to be cauterized as well.

"Harry your boxers."

"Holy fucking Christ! Hermione I'm going to strip in front of you, just get out of my fucking room already!" Harry kept his eyes stubbornly closed.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before." She flicked her wand and vanished his unergarments, before conjuring a new pair and throwing them at his face. He sputtered and glared at her before pulling them quickly on. She just smirked at him.

"Can I go to sleep now?"

"Well you should probably bathe first…" she struggled not to laugh.

The glare turned to a look of complete disbelief and Hermione dissolved into giggles, falling onto the bed.

"You're not funny at all."

"And you're just a grouchy old bear." She poked him in the side.

Harry didn't say anything and Hermione propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. His face was troubled.

"Am I evil Hermione?"

"No of course not." She said automatically.

"But all these people I've killed. I've lost count of how many now."

"Harry, you did what you had to." She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"But I enjoyed it."

Hermione was quiet for a moment as she thought of what to say. "I killed yesterday too Harry, maybe not as many as you, but I did. And some small part of me enjoyed it. I think it's normal, and that there's always going to be that part to our nature. No matter how much we evolve as a race, that animal part of ourselves, passed down through our ancestors will stay with us. That's just how it is. And it's just amplified in you because of the ritual. And you haven't killed any innocents have you? They've all been deatheaters: murderers and rapists and much more that I don't want to even think about. So no Harry I don't think you're evil, I think you're just unlucky, and maybe unwise in experimenting with magic you shouldn't have."

"What about what that.._thing _in the lake said? That I have evil in my heart and she's seen what I'll become."

"There's evil in everyone's hearts. And there's potential for everyone to become evil, but that doesn't make you evil. Sure you're probably more likely to become evil than the next person but that's always been true."

"What do you mean?"

"Well with how you grew up and all that. Unloved and treated horribly. Voldemort's diary said he grew up in an orphanage right? That's probably why he turned evil. And you've always had all this pressure on you, being looked up to as the savior of the wizarding world and having a Dark Lord after you. Anyone else would have snapped a long time ago, but you never did, because you're stronger than that, even after everything you've gone through this summer."

"What if I've snapped now?"

"I don't think you have or else you'd be strangling me instead of talking to me." Hermione joked.

Harry smiled, and finally drifted off to sleep before he could tell Hermione the things weighing so heavily on his mind; the prophecy, his dreams of Voldemort, and the choice he had almost made to join the Dark Lord. After a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the rising falling of chests as breath left them and the crackling of the burning fire. The lamps in the room dimmed before shutting off, sensing their occupants desire for darkness.

********

An:

Not as much action in this chapter, but more character development I hope. I was going to write a longer chapter so I could include some action but I'm not sure if you guys want a chapter longer than eight thousand words. If you do I can start making them ten thousand or a little longer. Let me know in the reviews. Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far, it means a lot that you're following the story and like it enough to keep reading it. You guys are my inspiration when I get stuck in the middle of a chapter or when it's 4 in the morning and I should be studying for an exam but I'm writing instead :P. I'm definitely going to keep updating frequently, even if it's not every day. I'm thinking it was probably a bad idea to be doing that anyway, because the chapters are probably of a better quality when I spend at least two or three days on it.


	11. Chapter 10: Stir Crazy

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters **_

**Chapter 10: Stir Crazy**

The dog's barks stirred Harry from his slumber. A few days of exploration had passed and Harry actually felt relaxed for the first time the whole summer. The teens still hadn't managed to cover the whole of the underground halls, but had the important parts. Hermione spent most of the time in the library and Harry and Dudley passed their time in the gym. The kitchen they had found well stocked and had eaten all their meals in the living room, and Hermione had taken to entertaining them with the piano. Harry didn't really find it suprising she played but wondered why she had never said anything, she really was quite good. She had tried to give him a few simple lessons but he didn't quite have the patience for it.

An echoing pained gasp and shout of "_Down Crixus_!" fully woke Harry who pulled on a pair of trousers lying on the stone floor, and grabbed his wand. The lamps in the room seemed to sense his alertness and flickered on, revealing the stone walls and fireplace filled only with soft gray ash, and the bear fur under his feet. For a moment Harry was afraid the light had woken Hermione for she had let out a pitiful groan and rolled on the bed so her face was pressed more into the pillow. But she didn't show any more signs of stirring. The dim light illuminated her brown curls and pale skin. Her little pointed nose and unblemished chin stood out in sharp relief against the black sheets of the bed and Harry felt a sudden, strong reluctance to leave the room before he pushed it down.

He creeped out, opening the door slowly and closing it softly behind him before venturing into the corridor, careful not to make a sound. If we woke Hermione she would be insistent upon investigating the mysterious voice with him, and he didn't want that. Harry wasn't exactly sure why she insisted on staying in his room instead of finding her own, and they hadn't talked about it, but he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. The bear was always looking for a means of escape from the imprisonment Harry had it in within his mind. Anger had been its favorite weak point to expose but the more Harry was around Hermione the more it become lust. He couldn't deny the physical attraction he felt towards the girl, and the bear was seeking to take advantage of it. He'd would soon have to make Hermione move to a different room.

In the badly working chandelier lights of the great hall, Harry could see a tall shadowy figure standing close to the giant stone doors, a hand pressed to his side. The lights were dimmed to a point that Harry could hardly make him out. His head was cocked, as if listening hard to something.

"Don't move." Harry stepped into the Hall, and cast a nonverbal '_lumos , _shining his wand on the man, who winced and shaded his eyes with the hand not pressed to his side, a dark gray hood keeping Harry from discerning any of his features.

"Bit bright huh? Mind turning that down or pointing it somewhere else?" The man's voice was raspy. He was of a considerable height, taller than Harry and was dressed in rags that hung in strips from his thin form. As the stranger pulled his hood off Harry could see tangled locks of dirty brown hair hung to his shoulders, and a scraggly beard covered his cheeks. The rags were gray, torn in several places where Harry could see cuts and gashes in the flesh showing through, and the cloth was splattered from head to toe in blood. Harry had a feeling some of the blood wasn't the man's own. His face was covered in bruises and bloodied as well. All in all he looked like a beggar who had either been beaten savagely or just committed murder.

"Who are you?" Harry walked closer to the strange vagabond, but lowered his wand away from the man's eyes which he noticed were brown like his hair. The pupils were contracted from the wand light making the brown stand out more, along with the blood shot arteries sprawled across like spiderwebs of red.

The man laughed, his throat cracking. "I should be asking you that. This is my house after all."

He moved his hand from the bloody wound on his side and extended it to Harry, but a gold locket unraveled and fell from a chain wrapped around his fingers, swinging in the air.

It glimmered in the dim light of the hall and the light of Harry's wand revealed an ornate _S _engraved on its surface. He stared at it, feeling something strange in his chest, like a deep longing, before the vagabond looked down and hastily stuffed the locket into his robes."

"What is that?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes from the pocket the man had placed the locket in.

"Nothing, nothing just a trinket. A…family heirloom. I keep it on me for good luck." The man's voice was smooth but his speech more hurried than his previous sentences.

"I think I've seen it before."

"Have you?" The beggar looked straight into Harry's eyes, with an intense look of warning.

Harry didn't say anything but looked away, feeling confused and disturbed about the vagabond's behavior.

"You must be Harry Potter then, pleasure to meet you." The man stuck his hand forward again, grinning, and Harry took it robotically, even more confused.

"Er, you said you own this place? Tonks never told us who you were."

"Ah that's just like Tonks isn't it? The names Charlus. Charlus Mckennon. And yes the Mckennons were all wiped out, except for me because I'm obviously still alive."

Charlus started limping towards the arm chair in the living area with Crixus at his heels, who was whining excitedly. Blood dripped to the floor, splashing upon impact with the cool stone, and then the carpet as he stumbled his way over. Harry moved forward and draped one of Charlus's arms across his shoulder, helping the man into the chair.

"You want me to take a look at that for you?" Harry asked, motioning to the deep wound in the man's side.

"Would you? I'm afraid the healing arts have never been my forte."

Harry pulled the rag away from the wound and considered the bleeding gash. A simple _epiksey _wouldn't do for a deep laceration like this.

"_Suo!" _Harry decided on and incanted firmly. The wound started to emanate a green shining glow and the two sides of separated flesh began to join together but stopped. Harry cast the spell again, concentrating more power into it and the wound continued to knit itself until it was just a pink jagged line. The glow left, and all that was left of the wound was the faint scar and the blood covering the area. He flicked his wand and it evaporated into a red hazy smoke that lingered for a moment in the air before dispersing. Harry went over most of the wizard's other cuts with same spell, his wand twisting and weaving over Mckenon's form as he bent his will and magic heavily towards the task.

Charlus let out a relieved sigh. "You seem pretty good at that."

"I figured it'd be a wise magic to learn considering the situations I've been in." Harry smirked.

"Ah well I just can't seem to get the hang of it. We've all got things we'll always suck at I guess."

Harry sat down in the chair opposite from Charlus who flicked his wand. A cabinet by the fireplace opened to display several glasses with ice and large bottles of alcohol. One bottle filled two cups which then floated into Charlus's and Harry's waiting hands.

"So how'd you get this beat up?"

"I'm assuming you've guessed already that I'm an order member." Harry nodded his head. "Well I'm also a hit wizard. That combination puts me in some pretty useful situations for Dumbledore."

"I imagine it would."

"Yes, well the wizards I was trailing ended up at Mundungus's place. I tried to save him but I got there too late. Killed most of the assholes, but they were pretty talented, managed to nick me a few times."

Harry snorted into his glass at Charlus calling the gaping wound a nick. Somehow he couldn't manage to feel sorry for Fletcher though. Perhaps it was because the man had been so lax while on duty and had caused Harry to spend much more time than wanted in the company of Voldemort's followers. Memories of long hours spent in torture, hanging from the dungeon ceiling played through his mind, and Harry rubbed his wrists, feeling the phantom pain of the iron cuffs. They had left very real marks as deep red scar tissue where they had eaten away at his flesh.

"Serves the deatheaters right." Harry said darkly.

"Oh they weren't deatheaters. I was actually working under the assumption that they were the magical equivalent to drug dealers but they were apparently a little more. Had a powerful blood sucker with them, he's the one who stabbed me."

"Oh." Harry never imagined there were other groups of dark wizards out there. "So the beggar getup is a disguise I'm guessing?"

"Hit the nail on the head. The hobo look was the best one for where I was."

Harry didn't ask what they would've wanted with mundungus. He knew the man had had all kinds of shady dealings. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping what Harry thought tasted like brandy.

"Those are some interesting tattoos you've got." Charlus remarked. Harry looked down at his bare torso.

"Yeahhh, I'm starting to regret them a bit." The man was tactful. He had pointed out the tattoos but not the scars which Harry knew all too well stood out just as plainly on his face and torso.

"Ah, never regret Harry. I've made many mistakes in my life, but they're what's made me a stronger, wiser person, so I wouldn't change a thing….Actually, I take back the wiser part but you get what I mean."

Harry laughed. "Ya I think so. I guess in some ways the choices involved with them have made me stronger but they also had consequences I wasn't prepared to deal with. "

"At least you've learned from it. Many people go their whole lives without learning much. Wouldn't have so many goddamn problems in this fucking world if that weren't true." Charlus knocked back another glass and jerked his wand harshly. The bottle zoomed over from where it was floating to refill glass, brandy sloshing out, and onto the carpet. Crixus licked it up eagerly, slobber dripping from his mouth.

"So this place is amazing, we've been here for a few days and I still havent' seen all the rooms. How in the hell did you afford this on Hit Wizard wage? And with the maze and shit outside?"

"There's a long ass story behind it, but to summarize, I inherited it."

"Oh, that makes sense I guess." Harry really wanted to ask him about the strange woman-creature he'd encountered but didn't want to reveal what the thing had said to him, so he figured it was probably best not to mention it. Charlus seemed to be developing more and more of what seemed like an American accent the more he drank. The bottle kept floating over and refilling his glass every time it was empty. Harry waved it off as it tried to pour more into his. Crixus had his big head in Charlus's lap and was drooling all over the man's rag like clothes. One of his hands crusted in dried blood was absently petting the dog.

Charlus let out a loud yawn and set his glass down. "If you don't mind Harry, I think I'm going to go to asleep."

"It's fine," Harry said but the man was already passed out, his long arms hanging over the arms of the chair. Harry stood up and swished and flicked his wand, rising Charlus into the air and directing the hit wizards prone form before him as he headed off to set him in a bed in one of the many empty guess rooms.

* * *

"Fuck it all!" Travers screamed as red robed and fierce faced aurors formed from swirling smoke around him and his men. The hotel lobby was becoming crowded, chairs knocked over, and papers blown off desk as spells began to fire. Windows exploded with impact of whizzing magic and shards of glass rained down on all their heads, being crunched when they hit the floor by the quick movement of heavy boots.

The aurors greatly outnumbered the deatheaters and Travers realized it was clearly an ambush. He had been informed by his contact within the ministry that Harry Potter was now staying in this location, and with the permission of the Dark Lord had quickly formed a team and set out only to find the place completely empty. Now he was trapped within a circle of skilled duelists and only having half trained rokiees barely out of school to rely on. All of the good duelists among the deatheaters were either on errands for Voldemort, in Azkaban or dead. He didn't even attempt to disapparate as he knew it was a given that the aurors would've cast disapparition jinxes.

A deep red curse sailed from the wand of the blue haired auror, the half blood abomination of the Black family and Travers ducked, feeling the magic ripple the hood covering his head. It crashed into a statue of some important figure from muggle history behind him, blowing it into pieces. Looking around quickly he saw that many of his men were being disarmed and restrained with black ropes. Not one auror was yet down.

"_Bombarda Maxima!" _he shouted jabbing his wand forward and angling it downwards. A spell bucked from it crashing and plowing through the tile floor sending up a huge cloud of gritty dust. Travers fired off a few killing curses through the cloud, their green shine lost in the gray haze, before he turned tail and ran for the doors, stumbling and almost tripping on the hem of his black robe as his boots skidded on the floor. The gold gilded mirrors covering sections of the lobby ceiling reflected his flight above the smoke for the aurors to easily see.

"TRAVERS!!" A deep voice bellowed in a primal rage. The deatheater in question looked back over his shoulder and to his horror saw a tendril of crimson and orange flame come whipping through the smoky gray cloud towards him at a speed making it unavoidable.

He screamed as it wrapped around his left ankle, setting robe, trouser leg and then flesh afire as it jerked him to the ground, his silver mask being shoved into his face by the collision with the tile.

He rolled over, still screaming and frantically sprayed the whip with jets of water from his wand to no avail. The thuds of boots came closer, and Travers sensed a shadow looming over him. He looked up and for the first time in a long time felt real fear.

Kingsley Shacklebolt towered over him like a corpse burning with fury. His normally black skin turned ash from the cloud of rubble and his eyes piercing into Travers with so much hate, his lips curled into a snarl.

"Please..Please! Take it off!" The agony was becoming unbearable even for a man hardened by liberal application of the cruciatus curse. The flesh was consumed and the flames merely licking clean bone where the whip was wrapped around him. But the fire seemed to feed on what it burned and spread slowly up his shin to his knee.

"No. No mercy, not this 've killed my men." Shacklebolt's low voice was quiet and cold, a harsh whisper as he stared down at the coward before him. The auror flicked his wand, shaking the tendril off its end and it slithered hungrily along the floor like burning snake to wrap the remnant of its length around the whimpering deatheater.

"Arghh please, it's going to kill me!" The deatheater tried to scrabble backwards, his fingers clawing the tile, but Shacklebolt placed a boot on his other leg, keeping him in place.

"No more than you deserve. But I might consider it if you tell me who else you've managed to warp or bewitch in the ministry."

"Fine. Fine! There's only a few more that I know of. Ch-ch." The man gasped for breath and tried to utter the words but they didn't come back.

"Who?!" Shacklebolt screamed bending down and grasping Traver's by the collar of his robes, pulling him close. It was then that he came to a sudden and dreaded realization as he felt the deatheater's icy breath against his face. Shacklebolt dropped him to the ground and stepped back in panic. The tendril of flame slithering along Travers body had morphed into a chain of ice, clinging absolutely still to the black fabric of the robes.

"Kingsley, Dementors!" Tonks' voice carried over to him. Several Cries of '_Expecto Patronum' _were heard as great hordes of dark cloaked figures swept through the broken windows, and the shattered revolving door of the lobby like gigantic clouds of shadow, eclipsing the sun and all light in the room.

Many of the patronuses came too late and too weak against the overpowering evil and the wraiths floated down to steal the life of restrained and defenseless deatheaters, and some aurors whose patronuses were particularly feeble. Rapidly more aurors were being taken as their magic failed, and cold rotting fingers gripped their cheeks to bring them in for a deadly kiss.

Kingsley watched in shock as his silvery lynx was practically ignored by the hellish monster in front of him. It turned from the auror and bent down lowering its hood and placing its gaping, toothless maw above Travers face, who wasn't moving.

"No!" Kingsely shouted, but could do nothing as the dementor removed Travers mask. It caressed the deatheater's cheek before placing its rotting lips against the man's. The demon began greedily sucking out Travers soul, eliciting a horrible keel from the man as his spirit left him.

The Dark Lord had outmaneuvered them, sacrificing his own followers like mere chess pieces to take out his enemy.

_

* * *

_

_Wham! _A fist slammed into Harry's face sending him reeling backwards. Harry recovered and lurched forward swinging his arm only to feel himself flying through the air for a moment before crashing painfully onto his back. He wheezed, and tried to get to his feet as Mckennon stood over him.

"You gotta move, Harry! All the strength in the world aint gonna save your slow ass when you lumber around like some big drunken bear!" They were in the boxing ring of the gym and Dudley was laughing as Mckennon thoroughly beat the shit out of his cousin.

Harry growled and leapt forward, staying low to the canvas floor of the ring and wrapping his arms around Mckenon's legs. The hit wizard's face morphed from a taunting grin into a look of surprise as he crashed into the ground. But the shock didn't last long and they wrestled but for a few moments before Mckennon got his long legs across Harry's chest, the teen's arm levered between them.

"It's skill that will save you here boy! Not fighting only with your rage like a dumb beast! Your're a man, use your fucking mind!"

"'I've gotten this far!" Harry shouted through clenched teeth.

"And look how many scars you have to show for it! It's only luck that you're not dead. Do you submit?"

Harry let out a roar and jerked his arm forward , snapping it against the leverage, and then pulling the limp noodle of an appendage away from Mckennon before slamming his other fist into the shocked man's face, knocking him out cold.

Harry stood up and grinned at Hermione who was standing by the side and watching with wide eyes, before his face twisted into a strange expression. His eyes rolled back in his head and he keeled over, hitting the floor of the ring with a _thud. _

Hermione ran forward, climbing over the ropes and kneeling by Harry, frantically trying to think of the bone mending charm she had just looked up and half learned the day before.

"Dudley do something! Stop standing around, Harry's hurt!" The boy who had been standing slack jawed by the ropes closed his mouth and rushed over.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know! Er, go grab the potions from the medical section of the lab. However many you can carry."

Dudley nodded, and ran off out of the room and into the hallway, his trainers slapping against the stone floor.

Hermione decided to wake Mckennon first as he might know what to do. She had been surprised to see him at the table in the morning when they got to breakfast, but he seemed like a nice enough guy, and a very skilled wizard.

''_Enneverate_!" The blue light from Hermione's wand sunk into Mckennon's chest. She found his style of dress appalling with his torn jeans, boots, and blood stained wife beater, but it was at least better than the rags Harry had described. Charlus had washed his filthy hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. His scraggly beard was also now trimmed into mutton chops without a mustache.

Mckenenon sputtered and sat up, looking around widely before finding Hermione's face and giving her a toothy grin.

"Whooo-ee! That boy sure gave it to me good!"

"I can't believe you let him break his own arm, are you mental?!!"

"How the fuck was that my fault? It's not my fault your boyfriend is bat shit insane!"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Hermione shouted, her fists balled at her sides, and her cheeks red. Mckennon was standing now, staring down at Harry. The teen was wearing black baggy and pants and a sleeveless black shirt. Now that Hermione briefly considered it, it seemed like all the clothes he had bought in London were black.

"Why's he unconscious?"

"Uh I don't know, maybe because his arm is broken." Hermione said sarcastically, but biting her lip in worry.

"I don't think so. If he had enough of a pain tolerance to break his own arm I doubt he'dve passed out from it."

"Well what charm do you think will fix it the best? I can't remember the spell for broken bones."

Mckennon laughed, "Fuck me if I know!"

"Excuse me?!"

"Ugh, calm down miss prim and proper, it's just an American expression."

Dudley came running in at that moment, potions overflowing in his arms. One fell out and almost crashed to the floor but Mckennon flicked his wand and the green vial zoomed into his hand.

" '_skele-grow'. _What the fuck is this shit?" Mckennon asked, squinting at the label.

"It was in _your _ potions lab, shouldn't you know?"

"Nah, that Pomfrey lady gave me most of the medical potions in there. We don't really use them in America too much."

"What do you use then?" Hermione asked, kneeling by Harry and inspecting his arm, it was worse than the time he got attacked by a cursed bludger.

"Well the doctors learn the spells instead. Most people don't though."

"That makes sense I guess. We can't use that potion though, unless we vanish the bones in his arm first and I'm not comfortable doing that. Oh!" Hermione's eyes lit up."I remember the spell now. '_Ossis resarcio!'" _She said firmly and there was a crunch as the bone snapped together loudly. Hermione winced, she wasn't sure if that was supposed to happen.

Mckennon bent down and lifted the arm prodding where the break had been with his finger.

"It looks alright now."

"Hopefully." Hermione said worriedly.

"Ya won't Harry be pissed if he wakes up and can't move his arm." Dudley said chuckling, he had piled the potions inside the ring and was leaning back against the ropes. Hermione shot him a glare.

"Do you think I should wake him up?" Hermione asked Mckennon, still gnawing on her lip.

"Er I guess." The man didn't sound too sure.

Hermione cast the spell nonverbally and Harry groaned moving his hands to his head and pressing his palms over his eyes.

"Harry you alright mate?" Dudley asked

"Dementors."

"What?" Mckenon pulled his wand out.

"Harry there can't be dementors down here." Hermonie said rubbing his shoulder in a placating fashion

"_Not here." _Harry said.

"Where then?" Mckenon asked urgently. He had heard about Harry's visions from Dumbledore.

"I don't know but there are aurors there. I saw Tonks and Kingsley. But they're losing." Harry sat up still rubbing his head.

"Fuck!" the hit wizard shouted. He vaulted out over the ropes and sprinted into the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Hermione called after him.

"To tell Dumbledore!" The sound of his heavy boots was soon lost in the vastness of the underground halls.

Harry didn't even attempt to follow him, he had no desire for a meeting with the old man.

* * *

Tonks and Shacklebolt stood back to back, their wands out even though their patronuses we're starting to fade. Everyone else in the library had fallen, forever soulless, auror or deatheater didn't seem to make a difference to the foul creatures. The mindless bodies of victims lay all over the floor, though it was hard to see with the thick fog in the air. Kingsley could barely see the dementors in front of him. Only when they surged forward could he see their features clearly.

They had formed a circle around Kingsley and Tonks, rotting hands outstretched. The tallest one, that seemed around 13 feet compared to the average ten stood a little more forwards. It was the one that had taken Travers soul.

Kingsley's lynx failed and vanished in a wisp of silver and the tall hellish fiend rushed forward, a hungry wail resonating like demonic humming as it flew towards Shacklebolt.

He slashed his wand down and a jet of fire shot towards the dementor whose wail turned furious as it was forced back.

"Tonks I can't hold them back for long!"

"I can't either!" She was attempting the same magic, they didn't seem to like fire, but the dementors were gaining ground with every moment. There didn't seem to be any hope left. They had tried apparating away but it seemed there was powerful magic preventing it. Someone had to have directed the dementors here, and whoever had had probably also set up a ward.

Kingsley could hear Tonks' teeth chattering as she shouted out spells. Her hair was mousy brown, and her face pale, lips blue from cold and not her power.

"Tonks we're going to try something, I need you to hold on for just a little bit longer."

"I'm fine." Her voice was fait, and fading. "What are we gonna do?'

"We're going to bring the ceiling down. But when we do we're going form a shield just around us got it?"

"Kingsley, there's fifteen stories above us! Our magic isn't strong enough to hold a shield against that!"

"We'll run out as fast as we can. Look I can't think of anything else, and at least this way we'll hopefully take these creatures with us!"

"…Ok. I'm ready when you are. I don't think I can cast much longer anyway, so it's not like I'm going to live anyhow."

"Don't think like that. We can do this."

Tonks whipped her wand, shooting a curse and barely holding off a dementor that had flown at her.

"Count it down boss!"

Kingsley smiled despite the situation. If he had to die, he was glad he was going to die with Tonks.

"One!" three dementors flew at them and Shackelebolt twirled his wand, feeling renewed with adrenaline in staring his death in the face. The dementors were swept back by a strong gust of wind from his wand.

"Two!" More dementors surged forward out of the mist, into their line of vision and they both shouted out multiple spells, struggling to keep them back. But the dementors seemed to sense what they were planning and tried ever harder to break through.

"Three!" They both shot their wands up, and all the dementors came flying towards them.

The beginning of the spell formed on both their lips as they reached desperately within themselves for the power. The dementors were almost upon them. If this didn't work then they were both dead for sure.

Suddenly, there was a flash of flame in the air above their heads and they stopped the spell they had begun in shock as the song of a great bird filled the room, its body appearing out of the tempest of fire.

The dementors writhed around in the air, keening and wailing in agony, a sharp high pitched, horrible sound. The fog was dissipated in the heat of the magnificent scarlet bird, and Kingsley could see the horrible mouths of the fiends, twisted in pain.

Kingsley wrapped an arm around tonks, and with his other hand grabbed hold of Fawkes' tail.

They disappeared in a rush of flame, the angry demonic wails fading from Kingsley's ears, but they would stay in his mind, haunting him forever.

* * *

"Ughhhh." Harry groaned, getting to his feet.

"You ok?" Hermione asked moving over to help him. He waved her off.

"Ya I always feel great after I get my bloody arm broken and get mindfucked with visions of dementors." He crawled through the ropes of the boxing ring, and set off down the hallway, the other two teens following him.

"Well it's your fault."

"_Well it's your fault."_ Harry mocked her, making his voice high and annoying. She blushed scarlet and glared at him. Dudley tried to hide his snickering but failed pitifully. They were at the living room now and Harry threw himself into an armchair. The other two took seats across from him.

"Don't give me that shit Hermione, you saw how cheeky the bastard was being. I couldn't just let him get away with it."

She huffed, "Oh and I suppose breaking your own arm was a good solution was it?!" She stood out of her chair, shouting at Harry.

"I've put myself through worse." Harry said calmly. He was leaning back in his comfortable chair and was inspecting his nails. They were caked with old blood, and Harry came to the conclusion that he should probably get around to cleaning them.

"And look how that's turned out for you!" At this Harry looked up his eyes fierce with anger. He stood up out his chair to tower over Hermione, a furious expression on his face.

"You're not my fucking mother Hermione!" Dudley tugged on the girls arm, trying to get her to sit back down but she didn't budge, her hair and eyes wild.

"No, but I care about you, and I'm not going to let you do stupid, moronic things and get yourself hurt anymore!"

Harry raised his hand and Hermione flinched as he almost backhanded her but he balled his hand into a fist and dropped it to his side. He let out a yell and turned around ,kicking his armchair over, and sending it crashing onto the floor before he stalked off towards his room, turning over a few of the smaller tables over on his way, and pulling things off the wall for them to clatter onto the stone floor. They both heard a loud clanging as Harry threw a battleaxe down the length of the hallway. After that his angry stomps and growls and yells got gradually quieter the further he got down the hallway to the rooms, and eventually the noise of his anger ceased to carry to the other teens.

Hermione burst into tears and fell back into her chair, sobbing loudly. Dudley patted her shoulder and awkwardly attempted to comfort her.

* * *

A sheet of parchment, black ink messily scrawled across its surface was balled up, and crunched by a frustrated hand, before being thrown across a room to bounce off a vividly orange wall.

Ron Weasely ran a hand through his red hair, as he realized the futility of his actions.

'_None of the letters I've sent have been returned, so why would another one make a difference?_' He thought. He pushed his chair back and got up, stomping as he paced across his floor. Posters of players from the Chudley Cannons grinned down at him, and in his dark mood Ron quite thought they were mocking him.

The angry depression seemed to be his constant state of mind now. Dumbledore had told him about the events that had transpired at the hotel, but had told Ron that his idea had been sound and it was merely their own hasty planning that led to the tragedy.

Ron though couldn't help but feel greatly responsible. Kingsley wouldn't have ever thought a plan like that up, and if Ron hadn't of suggested it to him, many more people would still be alive. The guilt gnawed at him constantly, and he kept himself sequestered in his room for the most part, not willing to face his family. Sleep eluded him, and when he did manage to doze off he was plagued with nighmares of rotting, clammy hands seizing his face and pulling him to an open toothless mouth that he could see the black vastness of death in.

* * *

It was a few days before Mckennon returned and when he did he looked quite different. His beard had again grown, and his hair was wild but instead of his rags he wore strange heavy black leather robes. Only Dudley was in the living area to greet him.

Mckennon walked in intending to walk straight to his room but paused upon seeing the state of the great hall and the living area. He turned around, walking in front of the telly and staring at Dudley.

"Whys it look like theres been a fuckin tornado in here?"

"Er, um Harry and Hermione had a fight." Dudley squirmed uncomfortably in his chair from which he had been watching meaningless programs on. It still amazed him that they got any kind of signal down here. He hoped though that Mckennon wouldn't be too upset that Harry trashed his house.

"Christ, I hope they didn't fight with _this_ shit!" He said, hefting a long sword to put it back in it's place.

Dudley laughed, "No Harry just had a temper tantrum after they fought."

"Damn teenagers.." Mckennon growled under his breath. "Where's the battleaxe Dudley?' Mckennon had looked up at the wall near the hallway and finally noticed the artifact missing.

"Um, Harry kind of threw it."

Mckennon whistled, "Damn, that's impressive. Kid must have one hell of an arm."

"So you're not mad?"

Mckennon raised an eyebrow amused, "Why, were you scared I would be?"

"No just this is your house, and you do look kind of dangerous." Dudley muttered embarrassed.

Mckennon laughed and patted Dudley on the shoulder. "So where are the happy lovebirds?"

"They're in their rooms, haven't really come out much. Hermione's been spending all her time when she's not shut up in there in the library, and Harry's been mostly in the gym. He keeps asking me to get books for him though cus he doesn't want to talk to Hermione."

"Weren't they in the same room?" Mckennon had been a little wary of that when he had learned of it, but hadn't time to address the issue, and he was sure they knew the right spells anyway.

"Haha, not anymore."

"Damn. You know it's bad when a guy willingly gives up some pussy."

Dudley choked on the diet soda he was drinking, his face bright red. Mckennon slapped him on the back and it sprayed across the carpet.

"You alright there bud?"

"I don't they've-" He sputtered, fishing for a word to use.

"Ya like hell they haven't. If Harry's anything like me when I was his age…"

"That's not Harry though. I don't think he even think he even thinks about stuff like that. He's too wrapped up in Voldemort and killing deatheaters."

"Aren't we all?" Mckenon sighed taking the seat next to Dudley's and summoning a beer from the cabinet. He flicked his wand and the cap popped off.

"I don't know… I killed the guy that killed my parents, and it felt good but I don't really feel the desire to go kill any more of them."

"But what if they came in here and attacked Harry and Hermione? What would you do then?"

"Well I'd do what I could of course. I mean, I pretty much just got lucky with that bastard Yaxley. I can't do much without magic. Harry was working on a ritual that he said would help with that but I think he forgot about it."

"I've never heard of anything like that. But then again I didn't know you could turn yourself into an animagus with some tattoos." Dudley cast a sharp look at Mckennon.

"How'd you know about that?"

"I'm a hit wizard Dudley. And not just any hit wizard. The American programs have more intensive training so I'm ranked higher than most of the hit wizards here. That means I get access to files and shit, and Dumbledore is a wealth of information too. Combine that with the deatheaters I've tortured over the course of the summer and it wasn't too hard to put together."

"Oh." Dudley said, somewhat in shock.

"So what exactly were they fighting over?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I think it was that Hermione was being a little bossy and called Harry a moron. He got so pissed off he almost hit her."

Mckennon's eyes darkened. "I'd better go see if I can fix this. The idea of living with a fighting angsty teenage couple for the rest of the summer doesn't really appeal to me." The words were light but the tone contained something that Dudley found himself uneasy with.

He found Harry in the training room, bench pressing a ridiculous amount of weight. Mckennon wasn't even sure he could press that much. As if that wasn't enough he had chains wrapped around both ends of the barbell to make it even heavier.

"That enough weight for you big boy? Want me to throw some more on?" Harry just growled and continued pounding out his set, the chains rustling and jangling as he lowered the bar slowly and then forced it back up in a quick motion, repeating the process over and over.

Mckennon counted twenty repitions before Harry grunted and forced the bar back over his head, racking it behind him. The teen sat up, sweat dripping down his torso and his long hair which hung in his face.

"Did you want something?" Harry asked calmly. Mckennon pulled a stool over and sat in front of him.

"I heard you've been having some problems with Hermione while I was gone."

"What business of that is yours?" Harry asked angrily, swiping the hair out of his eyes.

"Well considering this is my house, and I'm allowing you to live in it, I would appreciate it if you refrained from trashing my possessions. I certainly don't break your things. Hell, I even made sure your damn owl was taken care of." Mckenon reminded Harry who had been ashamed when upon first being informed that Hedwig was with Tonks. He had completely forgotten about her.

Harry looked down. "I didn't mean to trash your stuff, but it was either her or everything else around me."

Mckennon shook his head, "You need to get a grip on that man. You can't be walking around like a bomb ready to go off. Especially when Hermione was just trying to look out for you. She seems like a nice girl. Definitely doesn't deserve to be treated like that. "

"No, you don't get it. You don't know what I'm dealing with." Harry pushed himself off the bench and to his feet, starting to pace in front of Mckennon.

"I understand more than you think Harry." Harry stopped and looked up at him in surprise.

"I'll let you in on a secret. I've got giant blood and I assure you that the instincts of a giant aren't any easier to deal with than that of bear."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, before he laughed, shaking his head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"That I knew your secret or that I'm part giant?"

"Both. You seem like a perceptive guy, and I know you must talk Dumbledore and all that. As for the giant blood, well you're almost as tall as Hagrid, so that's definitely in no way shocking. You do look more normally proportioned than Hagrid is though , even if you are tall."

"Well I'm not a half giant. In fact my giant blood is pretty diluted."

"What do you mean?"

"These halls Harry were once a great kingdom shared between giants and dwarves."

"That seems like an odd combination."

"It was, but it worked. Anyway after awhile a few humans managed to find their way down here. The dwarves wanted them killed but the giants wouldn't have it. The dwarves left, and some of the giants began taking the humans for husbands or wives, and then eventually you've got this ruling line of half giants, and that's what I come from on my mother's side. It's how I inherited this place."

"Kind of hard to imagine giants sparing humans. Usually they just kill them. "

"Ah well these ones weren't like the brutes you've got today. They were regal, proud kings and warriors but also much more civilized and learned than the modern conception. They even had their own magic."

"That's pretty interesting. Could I learn some of it?"

"Well most of it involved the forging of armor and weapons, which is what brought the dwarves and giants together, and that's more of an art, but the other stuff I'm sure wouldn't be too hard. I'm not convinced though that I shouldn't just lock you in your room if you're gonna go around breaking shit and attacking people."

"I'd like to see you try." Harry growled. Mckennon stood up and had his wand to Harry's throat before he could blink, the point digging in to the hollow point at the base of Harry's neck.

"Wanna rephrase that?"

Harry smacked the wand away and stood up, making to leave.

"Look Harry I'll make you a deal." Mckennon put a hand on Harry's shoulder, stopping him from walking out.

Harry didn't turn around but stood still, his shoulders tensed.

"How bout this, how bout I teach you how to control yourself, and you let me teach you how to fight properly." Mckennon had too many things riding on this boy if he was really the only who could kill Voldemort. He needed to be prepared.

"That seems fair, but I know how to fight. I've killed more deatheaters than I care to remember this summer."

"And you're lucky you didn't die in the process. Oh ya you also have to apologize to the girl."

"What? Why?!"

"Cus like I said, I'm not putting up with this all Summer."

"Fine,whatever. But why do you care about me learning to fight?" Harry turned around and stared up into Mckenon's eyes.

"Because I know what's riding on your shoulders, and it's of great importance to me for several reasons that those shoulders don't collapse under their burden." Mckennon walked past Harry, and out of the training room, leaving Harry to ponder his words.

* * *

"Hermione can I come in?" Harry stood outside her door in the hallway. She had taken a room much farther down, so that she would not run into Harry accidentally.

"That depends. If your name is Harry Potter then no." Her voice was muffled by the thick oak of the door.

"'Mione come on, I want to apologize."

"Apologize then."

"Can you open the door first."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Harry, go away."

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you Hermione."

"That's nice."

''And for cursing at you."

"cool."

"And for almost hitting you. I don't know what came over me."

"I do."

"Alright I do too, and it's no excuse. I won't let it happen again."

"I don't think I believe you."

"Hermione please forgive me, you're really important to me and I miss you."

"You're forgived. Will you go away now?"

"Not til you let me in."

"No, Harry."

"You know I'm not gonna leave until you do."

There was a groan of annoyance before the door was swung open, almost smacking Harry, who backed up quickly, in the face.

Hermione quickly went back to sit on her bed, turning away from Harry, and he sat next to her.

"I really am sorry."

"I know, Harry." Her fingers were drumming nervously on her leg.

"Then why are you being like this."

"Because it's taken you too long."

Harry reached over and grabbed her hand, stilling her fingers.

"You know I'm not very good at the whole apologizing thing."

Hermione sighed and looked him in the eyes."I just don't understand why you keep having to hurt yourself, or why you're still so focused on Voldemort. We're safe here, you don't have to worry about him any more." She was almost pleading, desperation in her face.

"Hermione, there's something I haven't told you." Harry looked away from her eyes and at their hands still gripped together.

"What?" Her voice was hesitant

"That prophecy in the ministry with mine and Voldemort's names on it, it was a prophecy that said I had to kill him. And that if I don't succeed he'll kill me."

"No, no that can't be true. You must have misinterpreted it or something. I'm guessing you must have been close enough to hear it when it got smashed?" Hermione shook her head, but wouldn't look at him.

"No Hermione, Dumbledore told me it. He's the one who it was originally told to."

"Why?" Hermione's voice was broken, tears forming in her eyes.

"Why what?"

"Why does it always have to be you."

Harry laughed humorlessly "That's just the hand I was dealt, I guess. But I'm not taking it lying down. If I have to do this I'm going to make sure Voldemort and all his deatheaters suffer greatly. Really even if there wasn't a prophecy , I'd probably want to do that anyway."

"But you can't. You'll be killed, he's too powerful."

"Is he? He's never been able to kill me and he's had plenty of oppurtunities. And before you say that's luck think about all his followers I've killed this Summer. I even killed Bellatrix who was his student, he taught her directly."

"Do you think he can even die? I mean when the killing curse rebounded on him, his spirit stayed here, instead of moving on, and eventually he got a new body. What's to prevent him doing that again?"

"Me. I'll make sure it doesn't happen like that. I don't know how now, but I'll research it. You can help me if you want."

Hermione's face changed from anguished to hopeful, and her eyes lit up. "Oh I bet the library here might even have something on it, the books are really old, older than anything at Hogwarts. The only thing is most of the older ones are in some strange language." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

"I think Mckennon knows it. He's descended from the people who used to live here." Hermione jumped off the bed.

"I'll go ask him right now!"

"Wait Hermione, are we good now?"

"Of course Harry!" She turned back around and wrapped him in a fierce hug. "You should have told me about the prophecy, but I forgive you. Just don't treat me like you did the other night, or I'll have to curse you." With that the determined witch sped off in search of the hit wizard who she found so deplorable, but in this case necessary.

* * *

The weeks past busily for the lonely occupants of the underground kingdom. Mckennon when he wasn't away trained Harry rigorously in the ways of killing, with or without a wand, or with whatever object that could possibly classify as a weapon. Once Harry was willing he took to it like a fish to water. Dudley had considered participating, but decided he'd stick with boxing. Harry had of course found it hard to keep himself under control. In the midst of violence it was near impossible to keep the bear from lashing out, and a few times he had felt on the verge of transforming, but Mckennon it seemed had a peculiar talent in calming him down, in that he knew exactly what Harry was struggling with it, and had had to get past similar demons in his own life.

His method for taming the beast consisted basically of practicing occlumency while fighting, constantly telling Harry to clear his mind, which Harry found strangely easier to do while in the rhythm of battle. He had taught and made Harry practice many movements and methods of blocking, attacking, or grappling hundreds upon hundreds of times over until they were firmly ingrained into his mind, and then he'd attack the teen until he could produce the right movements easily and without thought. It was very motivating to learn and to react quicker when Harry knew that if he didn't he'd soon be concussed or sporting broken ribs. Mckennon had broken Harry's ankle once, dislocated his shoulder twice, broken his left arm three times, his jaw five times, and his nose at least twelve times by July the twenty first, which was the current date. But Harry had learned, and the more he practiced the more he could feel the bear under his skin, but no longer did it feel like it was trying to break out. It was more like Harry was in tune with it, could understand its wants and needs, and could satisfy them without giving the bear control. He fought with a vicious animalistic anger, but didn't his lose mind to it. He planned out everything he did and used the bear as the driving force behind his every movement, his fists and wand the bears claws and teeth.

They were on the dueling platform now. Mckennon had taken to spelling Harry's mouth shut before every duel to encourage non verbal casting. Harry let him. He thought it was a good idea, as desperation seemed to make him learn a lot quicker. Harry learned more and more spells everyday and used them to great effect, performing feats of magic Mckennon wasn't quite capable of. But as flashy or creative Harry became, the hit wizard usually still won. He had stressed to Harry several times that fighting whether magically or physically wasn't about just acting and reacting, or casting the most impressive spells in your repertoire. It was about out maneuvering your opponent, manipulating their actions to make them easier to kill.

A wicked barbed chain shot across the platform at Harry, who flicked his wand, transfiguring it into a long green viper, hood flared, and banished it back at Mckennon. Without use of his mouth he couldn't command it, but it would still surely be angry at its treatment. He was right and the viper bore its glistening white fangs dripping with black venom as it flew at Mckennons face, hissing in fury. While Mckennon cut in half with a quick wave of his wand, gore spraying, Harry dissapparated with a puff of smoke and reappeared behind the man with his wand blazing. Mckennon threw himself to the side, barely dodging jets of multi colored light that blew chunks of stone out of the platform and all over the room. A chip whizzed through the air, slicing Harry's cheek open, but he ignored it as blood welled out of the cut, and dripped down his chin.

Mckennon sent a curse from the ground which Harry deflected with his wand, sharply jerking his arm. Sparks erupted as spell and wand collided, before the spell was sent careening into the void above his head. After a few moments there was a crash, as the volatile magic finally impacted the ceiling. Mckennon had scrambled to his feet, and Harry twisted his wand to send off a curse, but the hit wizard grabbed his forearm with one hand, and with the other attempted to break Harry's nose again. Harry though blocked it, getting a grip on the inside of Mckennon's wrist, suspending both their arms in the air with his superior strength, and then smashed his forehead into Mckennon's face with a satisfying crunch.

The man reeled as blood sprayed from his nose, but he kicked forward, catching Harry in the chest , who was caught unawares in his mental gloating. The teen was knocked flat on his back, the air sent out of his lungs with a _whoosh. _

He had no time to recover, and quickly rolled sideways, a sizzling red spell impacting the ground where his head had been moments before, leaving the gray stone smoking. The roll however proved a mistake, and Harry was delivered to oblivion as the toe of a heavy boot savagely met his temple.

* * *

"So Harry what did you learn this time." Dudley asked trying not to laugh. He, Mckennon, and Hermione were standing over the teen but to Harry it looked like there were at least eight figures floating rapidly around him and beyond them the room was hazy and indistinct.

"Not to try to cast spells that close to my opponent?"

"Right in one. Although I'm pretty sure that's a lesson I've taught you…several times." Mckennon reached down and pulled Harry to his feet, who wobbled over to a workout bench to sit down.

"I know, I wanted to apparate a little further behind you, but I estimated the distance wrong I guess."

"I wouldn't advise trying that at all in a situation where there's more than one person or you'll probably find yourself materializing in the path of a killing curse."

"Ughh damn you're right. It seemed like such a good idea though."

"Many ideas do until they're put into practice. You're doing great though, progressed a lot in the last few weeks. I liked that bit when you turned my barbwire into a venomous serpent."

"Haha thanks, and I finally broke your fucking nose!"

"That you did, that you did. Makes one time to my ten." Mckennon patted Harry on the shoulder, who growled at him.

"Alright we can head over to the library now? It's already past one and I want to get through the rest of the text on ancestral summoning rituals." Hermione was tapping her foot, and seemed to be itching to leave. But she couldn't bear studying while she knew Harry was probably receiving multiple injuries, and always stayed and watched until they were done training, practicing her healing magic on whoever got hurt.

"Alright, little lady but what do you say we get somethin to eat first? I'm starving. Beating up your boyfriend worked up an appetite." Dudley nodded, eager to head over to the kitchen.

Hermione blushed but she had long since realized that denying any relationship between her and Harry was futile and the annoying man would keep insisting its existence anyway.

"You're always hungry. But I guess it's time for lunch."

_

* * *

_

_Tap. Tap. Tap. _Harry's nail drummed a slow beat on the parchment he was perusing. The nail was longer than usual, and as he tapped a little too hard, it punched a hole in the soft, old paper. The text was a key for the runes that the giants had used before they developed a written language. Harry was hoping he could use some of them in the ritual he was preparing for Dudley, who was up in the living room watching the telly. Old habits were hard to break.

The smell of the ancient musty library filled his nostrils, along with other more distracting scents. He glanced around taking in the towering wooden shelves, stocked thick with books and scrolls, the marble floor etched with strange patters, and finally his eyes landed on the table opposite of the room. Hermione her back to him, her wild hair tied into a bun as her head bent over the table, intently studying some text or another. Her fingers noisily flipped through pages as she searched for something she was afraid she wouldn't find. Mckennon sat next to her and occasionally Hermione would glance up at him, pointing at a word in the text, and Mckennon would pronounce it slowly for her and then translate it into English. Hermione would nod her head and then turn back to her reading. She was learning the language quickly.

In the heat of battle with someone he felt no real antipathy towards, it was easy to control the beast, to direct it. But now, in the quiet emptiness of the library, left only with his animalistic thoughts to distract him, the bear was pressing its advantage. What felt like claws raked against his skull, and Harry felt the need to let them out, the need to give in. His teeth itched and Harry pressed his thumb to one of his canines. When he drew it away, blood dripped from it onto the paper. It blotted the ink and spread quickly as more drops of thick red liquid joined it. Harry waved his wand, thinking a quick spell and the cut closed. Another wave and the parchment was returned to its former pristine condition, the hole and the blood vanishing.

His mind throbbed again and Harry's ears were filled with a strange buzz. His vision suddenly tunneled, the edges of the room darkening and disappearing, and Harry got up quickly, swaying as he attempted to stand. He hurriedly pushed his chair in, and rushed over to the exit of the library. The beast wanted blood, wanted Hermione, wanted many things and Harry's quiet studying for someone elses benefit was frustrating it. It sought to take control so it could then take what it wanted.

"Hey Harry, hold on I wanna show you something neat!" He barely heard Mckennon as he was almost to the doors, but he turned, focusing on the auror and trying desperately to clear his mind.

He made his feet walk over to the man and he looked down. Through the blur Harry could see Mckennon had a bowl filled with water on the table. A book sat next to it, open to a page showing an illustration, and instructions in the strange language of the half giants.

"You said you wanted to learn some of their magic right?"

Harry nodded and his vision cleared somewhat, the buzz in his ears lessening. The bear could understand this, this was power. Power was needed for dominance and to kill.

"Well this is the magic my ancestors first devised. It wasn't until they bred with the squibs and became half giants that they could use wizards magic and even then they had no knowledge of it, and no wands but they came up with something unique. Wizards have to use wands because they haven't been around long enough to form a connection to the earth, and can't manipulate reality with merely their will. Wands enable this because the cores are parts from ancient creatures that have a very solid connection. The half giants bypassed this by using the magic already present in objects composed of the earth, and manipulating it."

"Er, I'm not sure I get this." Harry was confused and the beast that was only just now starting to withdraw from his conscious didn't make it easier.

"Ok place your hand over the bowl and speak the word _valwe." _

Harry did as instructed and a strange feeling overtook him. The palm of his hand above the bowl tingled and Harry almost took it away but Mckennon grabbed his wrist, stilling it.

"Now close your eyes and concentrate. Really try to _feel _the water. "

Harry almost laughed as he followed the ridiculous intstrunctions, but stopped as he began to feel the water sloshing in the bowl as if it was the skin on his palm. His thumping heart began to slow down with the calming slow rippling.

"Direct it now, this part is the hardest. Tell it to form into a shape you want."

Harry did so, sudden inspiration striking him, and he opened his eyes to the image of a dagger composed entirely of water floating in the air. He concentrated hard and there was a crackling sound as it froze into hard ice and he grasped it out of the air.

Hermione let out an impressed breath and Mckennon clapped.

"Very creative, good job."

"I suppose this would be a useful trick if I ever had water nearby." Harry contemplated the weapon, running a finger along the sharp icy edge of the blade. The hand holding it was already beginning to numb and he dropped the dagger, willing it back to water as it sloshed back into bowl.

"Well I've never tried it but it might work with conjured water. And you've always got at least one or two other elements around you, just gotta memorize the words." He closed the book and handed it to Harry who pocketed it in his robes.

"This magic is more simple and yet at the same time much more complex than anything I've learned at Hogwarts."

"Yep, that's how they were as a people. Magic was more of an art to them. It was very individual and the outcome of a spell or enchantment was more a reflection of the artist's thoughts than anything."

"Would it not work if I used the lain word for water?"

"Hmm no I don't think so. Latin is a language connected completely to wizards magic and the language half giants used was the one passed down from their giant ancestors who were of the earth and very rooted to it. Wizards do their best to distance themselves, and use magic that comes from within instead of whats around them so Latin wouldn't be very good for stuff like that."

"Makes sense I guess. Well I'm off, I'll see you guys later." Hermione tried to say bye, but Harry was already out the door and on his way to the gym to calm the beast that was again rising with countless repetitions of tiring exercises.

An:

Hey sorry this one took awhile. I wanted to wait for my betta to get back to me so there wouldn't be so many grammar mistakes and things like that, but I guess that's not happening. If anyone else wants to beta my story feel free to volunteer in the reviews or message me.


	12. Chapter 11: There's Blood in the Water

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters**_

**Chapter 11: There's Blood in the Water**

* * *

The girl's red hair blazed crimson in the afternoon sun, her companion's head a contrasting blonde. They sat in the tall grass under the boughs of a great willow tree with a picnic basket set before them, chatting of probably nonsensical things, but the watcher couldn't hear the words. What he did see was that they were far enough away from the lopsided house that no one would hear their screams.

Why the girls would venture so away from the ward boundary would be a reasonable thing to wonder, but the watcher knew that the red headed girl came to this same place every Sunday, often in the company of the blond girl who was her neighbor. He knew that she would've been instructed to stay inside the wards but he also knew that eventually the rebellious teenager would grow tired of the confines of the Burrow, and her overbearing mother and seek temporary escape. He had come to this spot every Sunday for a month and finally his prediction had proven itself true. He was glad, as he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle another round of the cruciatus curse.

The rat scurried through the tall grass on the hill overlooking the willow tree into the woods, where it transformed into a short, balding gray haired wizard with a rat like face, dressed in ragged black robes.

The rat faced wizard held out his left forearm, drawing the sleeve back, and stared with resignation at the dark tattoo of a skull with a twisting snake as its tongue that seemed to be jeering back at him. Of all the strange tattoos covering the wizard's body that he regretted, this one he hated the most. The other ones had at least proved useful, but the Dark Mark proved only to be a corrupting and enslaving stain, a brand of servitude that forever dogged him, that he could never escape from.

Finally the wizard summoned whatever courage he possessed and pulled his stumpy wand out of his robes, pressing it sharply into the tattoo. The dark mark burned, and the wizard hissed in pain as the familiar acrid smell filled his nostrils. The deed was done. With his silver right hand the wizard fingered the snake pendent hanging from his neck, crafted by the Dark Lord himself, which would allow him to pass through the Burrow's wards.

The wizard transformed back into a rat and made his way through the tall grass to the strangely constructed house, wondering all the while whether the choice he had just made was possibly worse than the one that had led to the Dark Mark on his forearm, the deaths of his friends, and his unending servitude.

* * *

Harry splashed water from the sink into his face. He had been in his room all day, working on the ritual for Dudley. He had been pretty much at a standstill, not being able to find runes from the cultures he knew that would produce the desired effect, until he had begun exploring the giant and dwarven runes which touched on ancient common concepts of magic he could use to link everything. Now the ritual was a hodgepodge with chants and runic tattoos chained together from a variety of cultures. It was finally finished, and he was going to tell Dudley at dinner which he was about to head to. Harry turned to leave but his eye caught something in the gilded mirror and he turned back. Something in his reflection was…off.

The tattoos on his neck and face glowed red and the reflection smiled at him, but Harry wasn't smiling. The bared teeth were elongated, pointed and the green eyes held a savage, primal hatred. It waved at him, with nails that looked more like claws. Heavy chains hung from the wrists, disappearing where the mirror ended, and the sink began. Harry backed up, disturbed.

"What's the matter Harry are you scared? But then you'd be scared of yourself, and that doesn't make a whole lot of sense." It's voice was a deep growl .

"How are you here, outside of my head?" Harry's voice was noticeably higher and less animalistic than the reflection's.

"Am I? If someone walked in right now would they see me in the mirror, or would they see you?"

"I.. I don't know."

"Well the question is irrelevant because you are me and I am you."

"No, you're not me. I'm not an animal."

"Yes you are Harry!" It roared, banging it's fists against the mirror. "You made the choice to become me, you can't turn back now!"

"I'm not letting you out anymore! Not now that I can help it. I see what you did when you were in control every night in my dreams. Never again will you be free!"

"But we have the same desires Harry! The same longing, the same thirst! Don't keep me trapped in here. Let me out. We can even keep your pathetic form, but if you release me from these chains we'll achieve everything we want that you're too afraid to reach for."

"I don't need you. The deatheaters and Voldemort will all die, but it will be by my wand, not your claws."

"Without me you are nothing. You couldn't kill a fly. You have no spine." The reflection jeered.

At this Harry felt some measure of self doubt. "Fine help me then, but I stay in control." The reflection smirked .

"You're not really in any position to bargain. Even with all your occlumency practice your resolve weakens every day and I grow stronger. All I need is the girl close to wrest control from you."

"What do you want then?"

"Let me out more often. You know what I want, it's what you want. I want the girl, and I want blood."

"I'll give you as much deatheater blood as you want but you can't have the girl if she's not willing."

"Oh she is, and I _will_ have her. "

"Then I'll leave this place now, and you'll never see her again."

"I'm afraid you can't make that choice now." The reflection smiled cruelly as a knock thudded on the door to the bedroom.

Harry broke his gaze with the reflection in panic and hurried out of the bathroom and over to the door.

"Face it Harry, I'm the best part of you!" The reflection roared after him before vanishing, just as the teen's spell slammed into the glass, shattering it.

Harry swung the door open only to see Hermione who looked up at him confused.

"Harry, who were you talking to?"

"What? I wasn't talking to anyone."

"I heard voices, and a loud noise." She sounded doubtful as she walked past him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh I was er, practicing spells."

"Oh, were you practicing the giant ones? That water spell was brilliant!" There was an excited smile on her face, and a light in her eyes that Harry saw every time she learned something new.

"Ya, I thought it was pretty neat too. Hey, Hermione can I ask you something?" He changed the topic even though he didn't want to. But he couldn't help himself, and the beast was already taking over, saying things for him, that he didn't want to say.

"You just did." She said cheekily. "But yes you can." She patted the spot on the bed next to her, motioning for Harry to sit down.

"Do you want me?"

"What?" Harry was sitting next to her on the bed now staring into her eyes.

"Do you want me?" He repeated.

"I don't know I nev-"

"It's a simple question Hermione, either yes or no." There was a bit of the growl in his voice but he spoke softly. He leaned close to her, his lips inches from hers, he could taste her breath.

"_Yes" _She whispered and Harry kissed her fiercely pushing her back on the bed. After a moment of alarm she begin to return the kiss hesitantly and Harry tore at her robes.

"Harry, we're going to miss dinner." Hermione gasped for breath as he finally broke the kiss.

"I don't care!" He growled and pulled away her robes which he had ripped apart in his haste. He leaned back and pulled his own robes off and then fumbling with Hermione's bra.

After a few moments he gave up and with a growl of frustration tore it in half before throwing it aside.

"Harry that bra was expensive!"

"I'll buy you a new one." Was all he said. He moved to the get rid of the other half of her undergarments but Hermione stopped him.

"I'll do these myself." She said, pulling them off. Harry quickly removed his jeans and his boxers, and then pushed Hermione back again, leaning over and propping himself up with his hands on the mattress so he was looking into her eyes. A bit of his reason returned at seeing the nervousness there.

"Are you sure you want this? I might hurt you." His legs were between hers now, his hips in position with hers. If she waited too long he'd lose his resolve. Harry's heart thudded in his chest and he struggled with the stronger part of himself that was urging him to move forward, not caring at all if he hurt the girl, and somewhat wanting to.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure for a second before making her decision.

"I want this." She said firmly. That was all Harry needed and he gave himself entirely over to the beast.

* * *

Dudley wandered through the corridors searching for his cousin and Hermione who had been absent from dinner the previous night. He was slightly worried they might have gotten in another argument and killed each other.

He stopped at Hermione's door and knocked. Getting no response he twisted the handle to find it unlocked, and pushed the door open. There was no one there.

'_She must be in Harry's room then.' _Dudley thought, for she hadn't been in the library or any of her usual locations. Dudley made his way further down the corridor, closer to the Great Hall and raised his hand to knock on Harry's door but stopped at the sound of running water. Mckennon had modernized the bathrooms in most of the rooms.

'_He's in the shower then, but then where's Hermione?" _A loud feminine moan answered Dudley's question who blushed scarlet up to his blonde hair, before quickly hurrying off to the living room, planning to drown the mental images with copious amounts of television and alcohol.

* * *

"So what does this one look like?"

"Er.. a smaller man I guess, wearing expensive boots with a sharp heel, and steel on the bottom of the toe like the kind Lucius Malfoy wears." Harry said. Mckennon had apparated them into the woods many miles above the underground city, and was working with Harry on one of the more interesting things he was trying to teach him. Harry was kneeling and staring at the soft dirt and leaves, and the imprints left in them.

"And what suggests that."

"Well the bottom part of the footprint, where the heel would be is more deeply indented by at least a few centimeters, and the toe is pretty concave, pointed like expensive boots are. There's also a few crushed and ripped leaves which suggest the metal. " Harry for once actually felt confident in his guesses which were becoming more and more accurate.

"Finally! You're catching on." Mckennon patted Harry on the back, and pulled him to his feet.

"I didn't think I would, the way you figured things out seemed really random at first."

"There's always a pattern Harry, no matter how chaotic something at first seems. Now you've already demonstrated your aptitude with the tracking spells before so I don't think we need to go over that. Let's head back. You apparate me this time, you need more practice with the long distance."

Harry placed a hand on Mckennon's shoulder and concentrated hard on the halls far beneath their feat. They both began to fade slowly, their legs and then their upper bodies dissolving into smoke that then reformed many miles below, in the kitchen of the halls.

"Better and better every day. I think you're just about ready." Mckennons said proudly as he opened the refrigerator to pull out some food.

"Ready for what?"

"Well to go with me, I mean."

"To catch deatheaters?"

"Ah well that depends I don't always follow deatheaters, like I've told you."

"Oh true. So I'm going with you today? That is I assume you're leaving again, like you've been doing."

"Ah no, not today. My current mission is one highly sensitive, and hopefully after today it will be over. I think I've finally pinned him."

Harry looked down at his bowl of cereal slightly disappointed and frustrated. The beast was more content since taking up with Hermione, but the blood he had promised it was nowhere to be found. It was beginning to become difficult not to lose control and seriously injure Mckennon during their training sessions. Perhaps he'd have to tell the man they couldn't practice with the knives anymore.

A loud ringing sound interrupted their silent breakfast, and Mckenon hastily pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket, the look on his face one of extreme alarm.

"Oh Fuck!" He cursed, dropping the parchment on the table and quickly summoning various weapons and objects that he hastily stowed in his robes.

"Whats the matter?" Asked Harry, standing up from the table.

"I have to go, if I'm not back in an hour use the fireplace to floo Dumbledore."

With that Mckennon disappeared with a pop, not even bothering to apparate quietly.

"Harry what's going on?" Hermione walked into the kitchen, followed by Dudley who wouldn't look at either of them.

"Nothing, Mckennon just had to leave. Trailing some deatheater probably." He lied sitting back down and resuming eating his cereal. Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him, casting a sidelong glance at Dudley, who was getting out a box of waffles from the freezer. They boy had been acting strange all morning and hadn't said a word to her.

"In that case, do you want to look at those spells with me in the library today? Since you're not training with him, I mean." Her sleeve fell down to her elbow as she raised the small blue mug to her mouth, and Harry saw that she had healed the bruises he had made on her wrists. The pale smooth skin distracted him for a moment, and he shook his head, chasing out the thoughts. This wasn't the time.

"I would but I really want to finish up Dudley's ritual. I'll er see you later, alright?" He kissed Hermione on the cheek and quickly left the kitchen before Dudley could ask how the ritual was going. Hermione watched him as he walked off, biting her lip in worry, not sure of what the dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach meant, but not liking it at all.

Harry did do as he promised, but as the ritual was almost completely finished, he was left with nothing to do but pace anxiously in his room while he watched the piece of parchment he had sneaked off the table before Hermione had walked in.

It was Mckennon's map which he had taught Harry how to operate, and which was linked to the tracking spells of the many wizards the man was keeping an eye on or pursuing. The map contained all of Europe, and with a quick spoken spell and tap of the wand would zoom in on a specific person or place.

People couldn't be seen while within warded areas that canceled the magic of the tracking spells, but as there were numerous green dots spread throughout the map, Harry knew they must be out and active. Harry didn't know the password to reveal the dots' names but he knew that green stood for deatheater, and the alarm was when one or more left the warded area they were hiding in.

Harry was following Mckenon's dot which showed up as blue, and was currently in Romania, where many of the green dots were. Forty-five minutes had passed and Mckenon was still in the same location, probably observing whatever the deatheaters were doing.

Suddenly though, several of the green dots disappeared, along with the blue one causing the map shift focus- to Ottery St. Catchpole.

"Shit!" Harry cursed but kept watching the map. Several of the green dots turned black, which meant Mckennon had killed them, but about ten were still green. Harry tapped his wand urgently on the parchment, and it zoomed in closer. He could now see the green dots circling around the blue one. Two more turned black, but then the deatheaters swarmed Mckennon and they all disappeared, back to Romania.

Harry had never been to Romania in his life, and therefore could not apparate there, but he had been to the location just north of the Burrow a few times while visiting the Weasleys. So Harry did the only thing he could and apparated, not bothering to tell Hermione or Dudley where he was going or why.

* * *

Fortune was temporarily on his side in that the fight seemed to have taken place mostly on the dirt path that led up to the familiar willow tree. He could see easily the prints of heavy deatheater boot prints, as they circled around prints about twice their length, those would be Mckennons. The magic of the map aided him further, making the deatheater prints glow green, and Mckennons blue. Disturbingly there was blood pooled around many of Mckennon's.

The black dots were accounted for in the dead bodies of deatheaters strewn to the sides of the path. There were five, but they were so horribly mangled and maimed that Harry didn't bother trying to figure out who they were. Mckennon's wand lay in the middle of the tracks, where they had finally managed to disarm him, and Harry picked it up, putting it in his bottomless pouch that he carried always in his robes.

The wicker picnic basket was what really terrified Harry. He knew that Ginny would come here sometimes, and he had himself with Ron and Hermione. The basket was untouched, at a discord with the rest of the scenery. The tree had holes blown through it, the long grass crushed and scorched. The dirt path now contained large potholes, and there were of course the dead bodies strewn haphazardly on the sides of the path.

That Ginny's body wasn't there meant that either she had somehow escaped, or the deatheaters had taken her. The latter option seemed more likely in Harry's heart, which was sunk down to his toes. Two wands were on the ground next to the basket, and Harry recognized them as Ginny's and Luna's. He picked these two wands up also and put them in the pouch.

He poured over the map one more time and something strange caught his attention. There was a green dot _inside _the Weasley's house. Tapping it, he watched as man sized footprints lit up in the forest, before turning into little dots that shone their way all the way through the field to the house. The rat had returned to its Burrow.

Rage took Harry and he disappeared with a crack, reappearing on the Weasleys front porch. If he hadn't taken leave of his senses he would've taken more caution in trying to apparate through wards, but thankfully Dumbledore had had the foresight to key Harry into them in the event that Harry ever showed to them in the event that Harry ever showed up there for assistance or to stay.

Harry's wrathful magic yanked the door open and sent it flying off its hinges to crash into the yard.

"PETTRIGREW WHERE ARE YOU? Come out you little rat!" he roared, his voice becoming deep like the growl of a bear. His robes were beginning to tear, and fur sprouted along his arms, hands and face while his nails lengthened into claws.

Several people who were sitting at the table jumped up, and a few cast spells in fear. Harry, barely paying attention, caught them on the end of his wand by reflex, and sent them careening into the walls where they exploded into showers of sparks.

From under the table, Harry spotted a tiny gray from with a long tail try to scuttle towards the door and he summoned it with a mental _'accio'. _ It transformed in midair into a balding, ugly, pathetic wizard which Harry grabbed by its arms slamming it up into the wall. Several cooking instruments fell out of the cabinet above their heads but Harry ignored them as they clanked onto the floor.

"Why'd they take Ginny?'

"Ma-master wants a new body. He needed the girl!"

"Take me to them!" Harry growled. Pettigrew quaked in fear. He was looking directly into the monsters eyes glowing like green flames, and the sharp menacing teeth that scared him more than Voldemort ever could.

"I- I don't know what you mean!" He squeaked.

The monster didn't seem to like this answer and crashed its fist into Pettigrew's jaw before grabbing him by the back of the head and slamming his face into the edge of the table.

Mrs. Weasley screamed in shock as blood sprayed outwards. Harry threw Peter on the ground and quickly reeneverated the unconscious deatheater.

"Still don't know?" Wormtail tried to crawl away, scrabbling at the floor with one hand, while the silver one clutched at his ruined face. A steak knife thudded into the normal hand with a wet _thunk_. He screamed in pain, and tried to jerk his hand away, but it was pinned securely to the floor, and Harry crushed the digits underneath the heel of his heavy boot.

"I suggest, if you want to keep the rest of your pathetic body intact, that you take me where I want to go."

"I'l tuh-take you. " The rat gasped out not being able to manage anything else. Harry summoned the knife, levitated it with blood dripping off of it onto the table, and picked Pettigrew up grasping him firmly by the arm.

"Harry is that you?" Ron asked, his face was pale and he couldn't gather the nerve to step any closer his friend who seemed halfway between a man and some great savage beast that towered above the redheaded wizard's ample height. His black robes, that looked curiously like a deatheater's were splattered with Pettigrew's blood.

Molly was trembling in fear while Arthur who was looking at Harry like he wasn't sure what he was seeing, held her. The twins simply stared at him with wide eyes, and open mouths. No clever remark came to Fred or George in that moment, and they would forever remember it as the only time their witty tongues failed them. No one else was currently in the Weasley household.

Ron finally took a step towards Harry, but at that moment he and Pettigrew faded from sight, and all Ron touched was smoke.

* * *

The two wizards reappeared in a dark forest, on the raised edge of a clearing. Harry pulled them both to the ground so that they were lying on their stomachs, looking down. The clearing was like a bowl and in the sunken center was a tall structure. With a chill Harry realized the outside was composed out of millions of human skulls. It was a temple and was domed. Its highest point reached just above the dark canopy of the forest. Looking down, he could see the entrance. There was no door, just two wide pillars that stretched up into the arched roof. They were again made of skulls that had been stacked on top of each other and probably held together by magic. They seemed to jeer at him, and he could feel terrible presences of lost corrupt souls still inside them. He shuddered and took note of the two death eaters patrolling the entrance before turning back to Wormtail.

"_Legilimens" _He spoke softly, and thrusted his will sharply into Wormtail's mind, quickly gleaning from it all knowledge of the temple's layouts. It appeared there was only one room above ground, a huge ritual chamber, but many rooms and dungeons beneath the forest floor.

Harry pulled his mind out, and saw that Pettigrew's eyes were rolling back in his head and he was wheezing. Harry had been none too gentle or subtle. The eyes finally focused and widened in fear for Harry was smiling at Wormtail, a terrible smile that showed all his pointed teeth. Wormtail tried to back away, but Harry maintained a firm grip with one hand on his shoulder, his claws piercing through cloth and into skin. Blood from the wizard's ruined nose dripped onto the sleeve of Harry's robes.

"I'm afraid I have no more use for you, Pettigrew." Harry said, a strange menacing glint in his eyes. A scream rose in Wormtail's throat but died as Harry's teeth tore through his jugular and vocal chords.

Peter kicked his legs and beat his silver hand against Harry, but Harry in his frenzy didn't feel it, and eventually the man stilled, passing into unconsciousness and death with the heavy blood loss. Harry dropped him and he fell into a pool of his own blood with a _squelch_.

Harry leaned back on his elbows. His face and chest were soaked in blood and it dripped off his chin along with globules of fat. He picked out a piece of flesh with his nails that were now receding, and sighed, elation passing through him. The beast was somewhat content now and he felt himself shrinking, his robes no longer so tight, and the fur was drawing slowly back into his skin.

For a few minutes he reclined there underneath the trees, next to Peter Pettigrew's still bleeding body, in simultaneous joy and disgust.

A silver mist caught his attention, and Harry realized it was Peter's hand. Now that he was dead the creation was dispersing into the air. He watched, entranced as it floated up into the trees, carried by the wind, and he had to for a second praise Voldemort's craftsmanship before he banished the thought from his mind.

Harry stood up and cracked his wand on his head, feeling the now familiar sensation of a liquid dripping down his back as he disillusioned himself.

The guards stood idle, facing away from each other and Harry made his way silently and carefully down into clearing, stopping just behind the guard on the left.

He slowly drew out an enchanted dwarven dagger and stabbed it into the deatheaters back. The blade passed straight through whatever protective spells were on the robes and through the man's left lung.

The other guard turned around at the wet gurgle of protest the dying deatheater made, but before he could do anything Harry mentally incanted '_Lachia' _and an invisible magic passed through the air, distorting it, and cleaving the guards head from his shoulders.

A '_wingardium leviosa' _kept the man and decapitated head from crashing into the floor and Harry lowered them gently, before doing the same with the guard he was holding. After putting their wands in the bottomless pouch where Pettigrew's wand was also, Harry took a trick out of old Barty Junior's book and transfigured the two deatheaters and the head into bones and banished them into the forest with a flick of his wand, careful not to hit any trees.

'_Things are going well so far_ ' Harry thought as he crept into the temple. The was a short hall, devoid of light, but partially illuminated by the torches in the main chamber. Harry made his way past two guards in the dark hallway, and stared in horror at what met his eyes.

From the high ceiling hung a long chain, and from its end hung Ginny Weasley, naked, by her feet. Her red hair fanned out beneath her head, stopping just inches above a rectangular pool of steaming, bubbling water. Her eyes were closed, and evil looking runes were drawn in black all over her pale, freckled flesh. Deatheaters stood in a line around the pool, chanting and with wands touching. The torchlight made their silver masks glisten as their voices filled the chamber, and Harry recognized the chant.

It was in Celtic and Harry knew it was a rebirthing ritual. It required many ingredients and one of those happened to be the lifeblood of a virgin witch. Harry ventured a guess that Voldemort was laying in the bottom of the pool, waiting for the chant to reach the point when Ginny was gutted like a pig and her blood filled the water.

The voices rose in a crescendo, and one deatheater raised a long sickle, holding it up towards Ginny. The blade was silver but glinted and shone with a malevolent light.

Harry had to act fast. '_Ergoth'_ He thought and stone floor several yards in front of him rumbled and shook as it formed into a great hand, fingers reaching up into the air.

Several deatheaters turned in shock but spells came too late to their lips as Harry pushed his hand forward, and the stone hand swept into the deatheaters sending them flying into the pool. The wizard with the sickle paused for a moment at the distraction, but then turned back and swung. Harry summoned her, and the chain swung towards him, moving the girl just enough so that the crescent blade missed her throat, but cut her shoulder wide open, the blood spraying into the pool that hissed and cracked as the evil water consumed it along with the deatheaters who had been pushed in. The water was a deep red now, gurgling as it boiled and steam and a foul stench rose up from it.

Harry cut Ginny's chain with a wave of his wand and she flew into his arms. Several deatheaters saw where she had headed and cast killing curses in that direction but the stone hand blocked them, chunks of it being exploded by the deadly magic.

Harry disillusioned Ginny, and threw her over his shoulder, taking off in a sprint across the chamber. He didn't bother casting any curses as he didn't want the deatheaters to see where he was going but he continued to direct the stone hand, adding more material to it as the deatheaters hit it with spells and sought for its conductor.

Finally Harry reached the other side where there were stairs leading down to the lower floors and the dungeon. Before he set off down them he turned and spoke the words "_Car laerthos oin garto arthros" _softly. He breathed and out of his mouth came a silver radiant spark that flew across the chamber and into the giant stone hand, which for a moment shone silver. Harry felt a sudden deep exhaustion but the hand would no longer need a conductor.

* * *

With soft feet Harry ran down the stairs, careful not to make any noise. The first deatheater he saw running up to the chamber he stabbed through the throat with his dagger, and then disillusioned him, laying him against the wall of the stairs, where he would be out of the way. Two more he dispatched in a similar manner, unseen by them. Finally, after passing several floors, he came to the bottom floor of the dungeons. Voldemort and the deatheaters had only been in the temple for a few weeks, but had stayed there in the past, and Pettigrew had scurried around its entirety in his rat form. Harry had learned from his mind that Voldemort liked to keep prisoners on the bottom floor because the temple's foundations were built on the bodies of the many men and women whose skulls made the walls and roof of the temple . They had been embalmed by a necromancer centuries ago in such a way that their souls were still trapped in the temple never to escape, and their presence was felt most keenly in the lowest level.

Harry could feel them now, and it was a hundred fold worse than any dementor encounter he had had. The souls were old, and the years had aged their wrath at being unable to move on. It was like they were swirling about him now, taunting him, filling his head with their hate filled voices. They were jealous of his life, and wanted to take it from him. The pressure built up in his mind and his ears and Harry stopped walking, almost dropping Ginny and clasping a hand to his forehead.

He fell to his knees, his consciousness wavering, but he began to fight back. The souls pushed harder but the beast rose up inside him with a roar, and suddenly they fled. Harry could feel their terror and smiled in grim satisfaction. He took a moment now to heal Ginny's wound which had been bleeding heavily but the curse had been a very dark one and Harry knew the healing spell wouldn't hold for long.

Now that the voices were gone Harry could hear screams and hurried towards them. They definitely weren't Mckennon's, as they were female. He came to the stone door, and placed Ginny carefully down against the wall besides it, before blowing the door open with a "Bombarda Maxima!'

Inside the dungeon chamber there was a body length ritual table that stood waist high. On it lay a girl, and standing over her, a deatheater unmasked, and with his pants around his ankles. The deatheater turned his head at the explosion as pieces of the door hit his back and Harry saw that it was Crabbe, his classmate. The girl was Luna Lovegood.

Crabbe looked around for his wand but Harry grabbed him, pulling him off the girl, turning him around and slamming him into the wall, his hand around his throat.

"Ler go!" Crabbe tried to move Harry's hand which wasn't going to budge. Harry had disillusioned himself because he wanted Crabbe to see him before he died.

"I'm going to have to kill you now Crabbe. That was my friend you were having your way with. But first-_"Crucio!" _Harry pointed his wand between the boy's legs and Crabbe screamed in agony before passing out, his eyes rolling back in his head. Harry dropped him and then cut his throat with a flick of his wand.

Two deatheaters rushed in through the doorway waving their wands. Harry kicked one in the chest and he crashed into the wall. He blocked the second one's spell, and waved his wand, transfiguring the man's eyes into acid. The deatheater fell to floor convulsing as it ate through his brain.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _A green light enveloped the deatheater he had kicked into the wall, and who had been trying to get back up. He fell over, dead.

Harry turned around and saw that was Luna was staring up at him with wide frightened eyes. One of them was swollen shut and the girl's nose was broken. There was also a deep bruise along her jaw. He moved towards her, and she flinched away.

"What is there something on my face?"

Luna nodded and Harry realized there was probably blood all over his mouth and chin, and probably over the rest of him for that matter. Bile rose in Harry's throat at the thought of what Crabbe had done to the poor girl, and he came to the conclusion that Crabbe definitely deserved a violent death. Harry spotted the girls clothes and levitated her robes towards her. She didn't move to put them on and Harry noticed that one of her arms was broken.

"I'm just going to heal this for you, Ok Luna?"

She just nodded, and Harry moved his wand over her left arm.

She let out a cry as her arm snapped back together and after it was done, she wrapped her arms around Harry and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here faster, Luna."

"It's ok. He-he didn't rape me. He was going to but I was fighting him, that's why he broke my arm, and hit me. The worst part is the voices, they're all around me, and so full of hate. "Harry pushed her back and healed her nose, and her bruises, and then handed her robes again.

"I can't do anything for you about the voices but we need to get out of here, I'm not sure how long my distraction will last. Now have you seen any other prisoners? I have to rescue someone else."

"I heard a man being dragged past here, just after they threw me in here. He was shouting. You're not going to leave Ginny here though, are you?"

"No, I have Ginny, she's right here." He moved outside the door and Luna followed him. The spell had worn off on Ginny and she was now visible. Harry pulled Luna's wand out of his pouch and handed it to her. He then picked up Ginny and they hurried off down the hallway. At the end Harry could see an open door.

* * *

Peering in, Harry saw Mckennon shackled to the wall. He was stripped down to the waist, and blood dripped from his head which was bowed, his hair covering his face. He looked up in surprise as Harry entered. The stone tiles of the wall behind him and the floor beneath him were stained with blood. Most of the cell was dark, there was no light, except that of Harry's wand which somewhat illuminated it.

"Harry! What the hell are you doing here?"

"You left your map on the table, genius. Now shut up so we can hurry up and get out of here."

"Oh, and how are we going to do that? there's disapparition jinxes cast by Voldemort himself on all of us except you, and the only out is up is the stairs and through the chamber. There's no way we'll make it."

"Wrong. I caught Pettigrew and looked through his mind. The beautiful thing about dungeons is there's always at least one secret passage somewhere. The one in this dungeon is in the last cell on the right, which happens to be the cell across from us."

Harry laid Ginny down and after much wand wiggling and frustration finally got Mckennon's enchanted shackles undone, and helped him to his feet, casting a few healing charms on his many cuts and bruises.

"Here's your wand, the deatheaters left it at the Burrow."

"Thanks." After pulling the wand out, Harry also pulled out two brooms, his _Firebolt_, and Mckennon's _Silver Arrow _which was a very old broom but highly modified by the hit wizard.

"The passage is long and pretty steep so this should make it quicker. Here take Ginny, I'm sick of carrying her."

"She's bleeding." Mckennon stated as he took the girl.

"Ugh again? _Suo!"_ The wound glowed first green and then black as the curse battled the healing spell but finally it closed, but probably not for long.

"Can you conjure a robe or something? This is kind of awkward."

"Why the fuck do I have to do everything?" But Harry complied and the sleeping girl was soon covered.

"So did you have a little fun on your way here? You're covered in blood."

"Ah, most of that is Pettigrew's. Couldn't resist taking a little bite of him."

"You're sick." Mckennon shook his head, and walked across the corridor, stopping at the door to the opposite cell. Luna stared at Harry with wide eyes.

"Don't worry Luna, I won't bite you." He grinned. Luna reached up and poked at his teeth with her finger.

"What pointy teeth you have!"

"All the better to eat you with my dear."

Luna giggled, and Harry felt glad to hear something happy from her. She had seemed so broken in the cell.

"Are the voices still bothering you?"

"No, not so much. When everything seemed hopeless it was bad, but now that you're here I know I'm going to be alright."

Harry looked at her strangely. "I wouldn't count on that Luna, we've got a long ways to go yet. Mckennon what about you?"

"My occlumency is up to par so it wasn't that bad. But right now I'm concentrating on this door. It only opens outwards and there's a fucking hardcore locking spell on it that I'm trying to unravel."

"We'll you're better at that kind of thing than I am. How much time do you think it will take?"

"A few more minutes probably."

Harry could hear footsteps starting to pound down the stairs from the chamber.

"I'm not sure we have that Charlus, hurry the hell up! Luna get behind me!"

Luna complied and Harry stood in front of them both, adrenaline building and the beast coming forth. He grew taller, thicker, time his robes tore audibly as his shoulders hunched. Blood dripped from his fingers as his nails lengthened and widened into claws, cutting through skin. One hand gripped tight on his wand, and another hung at his side, ready to tear through flesh and tendons.

"Harry I'm not going to get this open in time!"

"I'll make time for you then!" Harry's voice was a deep growl now and he charged forward. As the first deatheater appeared in the hallway Harry met him, throwing him into the wall with one hand. The next got his throat torn open by Harry's claws.

"Holy Shit!" McKinnon said as blood splattered the walls.

Two more deatheaters appeared and one cast a killing curse at Harry who leapt aside.

"_Confringo_!" Harry yelled and collapsed the ceiling above the stairs, killing many of the deatheaters who had been making their way down.

"It's always fucking stairs! Why Stairs?"

The two deatheaters cast two more killing curses at Harry who levitated a large piece of rubble, blocking the curses and then pinning the deatheaters to the opposite wall with it.

The blockage on the stairs was quickly being levitated away by more deatheaters and Harry took the time he had remaining to create a few much larger than man sized golems out of the rubble and the floor.

He had not the energy to breathe life into them but he could hopefully keep them coordinated.

As the rubble was cleared away and a deatheater emerged one golem slammed his fist into his face, killing him and another golem grabbed a different deatheater, tearing him completely in half.

A third deatheater cast a stunning spell at Harry who blocked it and laughed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? _Avada Kedavra!" _ The deatheater died.

"_Stupefy!" _Harry turned around just as a deatheater who had sneaked up behind him fell over, stunned by Luna. Harry immediately rethought the uselessness of the stunning spell before cutting the man's throat.

"Mckennon, are you about there yet?"

"Ya just about!"

"Fuck we don't have all day man!" Harry's golems were getting blown apart by the deatheaters. He growled and grabbed a deatheater by the back of the head, slamming his face repeatedly into the wall in frustration.

The deatheaters were starting to crowd around him now. '_Where the fuck are they coming from?' _Harry thought.

He waved his wand in a frenzy, blocking curses, casting them, and levitating rubble around him in a circle. There was no use conjuring more golems but he could still use the rock.

He gathered energy and then banished all the rock in a quick burst, surprising and killing many of the deatheaters who had figured he was going to use them to block the killing curse.

Another deatheater got too close to Harry and Harry grabbed him by his hair biting savagely into his throat and spitting out a chunk of flesh along with part of his jugular vein.

A few deatheaters almost dropped their wands at the primal display and Harry killed them quickly with a multitude of curses.

A killing curse sailed at Harry who pulled a deatheater in front of him to block it and then threw the corpse into the crowd beginning to surround him again, knocking over a few deatheaters.

A cutting curse caught him in the arm and he hissed in pain

"_Turo!" _Light exploded outwards from Harry's wand in a circle blinding many.

"_Saggittos Horriblis!" _The dark arrows leapt from his wand, all of them finding their mark and a number of the deatheaters fell to the ground screaming.

A dark light was shining in Harry's eyes now, as his sharp teeth gleamed, his mouth set in a snarl. A few of the younger deatheaters stepped back, terrified at the monster in front of them.

Horrible spells of fire and darkness began to leap from Harry's wand. His voice became guttural as he incanted from a language long forgotten. A deatheater who tried to circle around him was consumed by a torrent of flame, and another casting spells at Harry was torn apart by his own shadow which leapt from the wall to attack him. Any deatheater who got in range of Harry's hands had their throat slit, or was bashed or thrown into a wall. The cracked stone of the walls and floor were quickly becoming covered in blood. It pooled around Harry's ankles and soaked his boots and the hem of his robes.

"Harry it's open! _Confringo! Bombarda! Bombarda!" _Mckennon pulled Harry backwards while collapsing the ceiling. They turned and ran down the corridor, slamming the door of the last cell on the right behind it. Mckennon quickly barred it with many spells and deadly hexes.

"Alright Mckennon, you take Ginny, I'll come behind you with Luna."

"What? No, I'm making sure you get out of here!"

"Look you know I duel better on a broom, but I can't do that with dead weight, and I'll be useless in front of you." Harry was beginning to tire now, and he shrank, his claws again receding.

"Alright fine, but you better be real close behind me." Harry walked in front of Mckennon and tapped his wand thirteen times on different places of the wall. It ground open into a pitch black passage with stairs leading up for what looked like forever.

"Ya whatever hurry up!" There were several screams as Mckennon's hexes took their victims. The hit wizard mounted his broom, pulling the unconscious Ginny on in front of him. He looked back at Harry once and then kicked off, zooming up into the darkness.

"Get on the broom Luna!" Harry could feel a presence approaching that he wasn't sure he could deal with. The door was suddenly blown inwards and Harry ducked as it passed right over his head. There stood the Dark Lord, terrible in his wrath and more hideous and terrifying in appearance than ever.

The ritual seemed to have failed and all Voldemort's skin was burnt and blistered. In places Harry could see the black sinew of his musculature where the flesh had been completely burnt away. Deatheaters were lined up behind their master, and Harry's heart sank. There was no way he could fight that many, let alone Voldemort.

"I've allowed you to live for entirely too long, Harry Potter. Tonight you die!" Harry leapt aside and the curse hit a wall, wreathing it in flame.

"It looks like you didn't enjoy your bath. Did the water get too hot?"

Voldemort's snake like nostrils flared and he cast another curse but Harry leapt aside again.

"_Turo!" _This time he pointed his wand directly at Voldemort.

"Arghhh!" Voldemort groaned in pain as the pure light blinded him, and Harry grabbed Luna who had fallen to the ground when the door was blown in. He pulled her onto the broom and they shot off into the dark passage.

The flew at a tremendous rate and soon Harry could see moonlight. Finally they were out, and Harry shot up above the canopy of the forest. The moon shone bright and he could see clearly the dark canopy of the trees, and the temple far below. Mckennon he couldn't see anywhere. Out of the temple began to pour broom mounted deatheaters and Harry cursed mentally before speeding off. They were on fast brooms and soon some began to catch up with him.

Harry climbed higher, cold wind began to chill him to the bone, and he cast warming spells on himself and Luna, whose teeth he could hear chattering. He wasn't sure how long they would last though; his magic had long begun to wane. He kept going further up, until he was above the clouds. The stars and moon shone clearly, bright orbs of silver and white in a dark void.

The deatheaters still followed and Harry stilled for a moment, before pointing his broom down and plummeting. They shot after him. Luna's arms were wrapped tight around him, but he could barely hear her screaming over the wind roaring in his ears. He closed his eyes and let all fear evaporate. They continued to spiral downwards and Harry reached out with his mind. He could feel the fear of the deatheaters behind him, and it was delicious.

Harry opened eyes to see the roof of the forest getting rapidly closer and he jerked his broom upwards, the tail just barely scraping the boughs of a tree.

One by one the deatheaters crashed into the woods, not having the same skill on a broom that Harry possessed. Every single one hit a tree, and Harry had no doubt they were dead. He could no longer feel their minds.

A few had pulled out of the dive and Harry sent spells at them knocking them off their brooms and then shot off again. Relief settled in on Harry as he began to think he was finally free, but it soon turned to dread as a great cloud of black smoke flew up from the temple.

It amassed into the Dark Lord, who flew after Harry, his wand outstretched, and a terrible wrath in his eyes. Harry flew faster, but the magic that Voldemort possessed was much more powerful than the enchantments of his _Firebolt. _Luna clutched at Harry in fear.

Voldemort was almost within 10 yards of him. They were nearing the edge of the forest, and were over a lake now. It's surface mirrored perfectly the moon and stars and they now shown up at Harry as well as down at him. Trapped between two heavens he was with hell flying straight towards him. The water rippled as Voldemort flew over it, and the image of the sky was distorted.

The Dark Lord raised his wand, his eyes flashing manically and a great dragon of fiendfyre burst from it, rushing and roaring towards Harry, an inferno with his destruction as its only purpose.

"_Valwe_!" Harry yelled, his voice full of desperation and much of the water of the lake rose up forming into a great cavalry of horseman. They charged the worm, spears crashing into its belly and there was a great explosion of steam as the water consumed the dragon, and rushed even past it.

The wave suspended in midair was now formless and it surged around Voldemort trapping and taking hold of him. The Dark Lord fought against it, his wrathful magic pushing it back.

Voldemort's immense power struggling against his magic was almost too much for him but Harry was aided by the magic inherent in the water and made one last effort, crying out as he thrust his wand forward with both hands. The shaft of holly exploded with a _Bang!_ and the Dark Lord screamed in anger as he was cast down into the lake.

A plume of water and foam rose up almost knocking Harry off his broom, which began to slide downwards, its rider slumped and almost unconscious, and Luna having no ability on a broomstick. It tilted further and fell straight downwards towards the surface of the churning water. Harry and Luna were about to join the Dark Lord in the lake's depths when a hand shot out of the foam and gripped the broom's handle, jerking it upwards and directing it to safety.

* * *

An: This chapter didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to and I kind of wanted to take more time with it, but it's been awhwile since I posted anything. If anyone wants an excuse for that it's because I'm taking accelerated summer courses that don't leave much time for writing but I'll still definitely working on this story.

all the new spells in this chapter are in giant speak

Ergoth = stone

"Car laerthos oin garto arthros" = From my soul I give life

Turo= light


	13. Chapter 12: Morning After

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

_**When Hunting Monsters**_

**Chapter 12: Morning After**

* * *

Harry felt sunlight on his face and turned his head into the pillow, groaning. He definitely didn't want to wake up yet, and his body felt like he had been repeatedly run over by a large truck. After some time of failing to fall back asleep he finally opened an eye and peered at his surroundings.

'_Yep definitely the hospital wing.' _He had known it already from the unique feel of the bed, and the pillow. The white tiled ceiling and the large windows which looked out onto the grounds of Hogwarts just confirmed it. His hands felt strange and he held them up to see they were wrapped in bandages. He could feel that his torso was too, and a slimy orange paste covered parts of his body where he had been burned and singed by dark curses and hexes. He was dressed in the standard gown of the Hogwarts hospital wing and none of his possessions were on him.

For a few moments Harry didn't move and listened for voices but heard none. He did though, feel eyes on the back of his head and got up and turned around to meet Luna's gaze. She was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. Mckennon lay in the bed to the right of her, but was very much unconscious.

"You're going to leave aren't you?" The only emotion Harry could pick up in the girl's voice was curiosity.

"I'm afraid I have to. Where's Ginny?"

"Professor Dumbledore removed the dark magic from the cut on her shoulder. He said it was quite a simple curse, but very nasty. Then Madam Pomfrey healed it and Mrs. Weasley took Ginevra home."

"Good." For a moment Harry had been afraid the girl had died. "Why are you still here?"

"Madam Pomfrey wanted to make sure my arm was healed right so she removed the bone and gave me skele-grow. It didn't taste very good but the sensations were oddly pleasant."

"Luna you're weird. Getting my arm re-grown with that shit sucked." Harry felt furious with Pomfrey. Of course the girl's arm was healed correctly. He wasn't incompetent. "Do you know where they put my things?"

"In Madam Pomfrey's office. I heard her and Professor Dumbledore talking. He said to hide your things so you wouldn't try to leave. She's not in there though."

Harry crept over to the door of her office, and tried to turn the handle but it wouldn't budge. An idea came to him and he reached out with his magic, really feeling the doorknob and what it was made of.

"_Burro." _He whispered and the door knob elongated and twisted before snapping back into its original form and falling off the door, clattering onto the tile at the same time as the knob on the other side. Harry winced but nothing happened and no one came, so he pushed the door with his foot and it swung open.

"We'll that sure beats _alohamora_ when there's no wand handy." He said to himself. Luna watched him with her wide eyes, but said nothing.

Pomfrey's office was very tidy. Harry had no need to search the cabinets full of medical supplies and potions, for lying right on her desk was his broom, with his robes and clothes folded neatly next to it. He was surprised they hadn't thrown the robes away, as they were clearly of deatheater make minus the spells and enchantments Harry had put on them. He was further surprised that they seemed to be fully repaired with no rips or stains. Harry also saw Mckennon's belongings which were neatly folded as well, and his many weapons were stacked in a pile on the floor.

Harry hurriedly stripped and pulled the clothes: boxers jeans and a tshirt that were all black on, and then the robes on over them. Reaching inside a pocket he let out a sigh of relief at feeling the bottomless pouch. It had in it everything he needed.

Turning around, he waved to Luna. "Bye Luna, I'm not sure when I'll see you again."

"Oh I'm sure it won't be too long."

Harry didn't dwell on Luna's words but pulled out his broom. Unlocking the window of the hospital wing with a wave of a wand taken out of his pouch, he mounted the broom and flew off, the great trees of the forbidden forest and the gray walls of the castle passing by in a blur. Finally he came to the gate, which he flew over. The wards didn't seem to protest against leaving; only entering.

Harry landed, and still grasping the broom in one hand, spun around and disappeared with a soft _pop_ only to reappear in the same place.

"What the bloody fuck?" Harry Yelled, kicking a tree, before remembering that he couldn't apparate into the giant halls without Mckennon. He no longer had the pendant on him.

Groaning in dismay Harry remounted his broom and flew back up to the castle, and through the open window of the hospital wing.

Walking over to the hit wizard he looked down to find that Mckennon seemed to be dead or in some sort of coma. His chest was not moving and his face bloodless and pallid, his brown bangs partially covering his closed eyes.

"Is he alive?" Harry asked Luna who was watching him with amusement.

"Yes but just barely according to Madam Pomfrey. She said he is under the influence of multiple dark curses designed to wear down the mind to make it more vulnerable, and that combating them requires keeping him in this state until she and Dumbledore manage to remove them."

"That makes sense. Voldemort must have wanted information from him but couldn't get past his occlumency." Harry pressed his hands into his eyes, and sat on the foot of Mckennons bed, next to the huge feet that almost lay off the edge despite Madam Pomfrey expanding the bed's length for his height. Harry could see that the pendant was not on Mckennon's neck nor had it been anywhere in his belongings back in the office.

Just to make sure Harry went back in the office and rifled through the pockets of the man's robes and his trousers desperately, upsetting the pile of clothes so that they fell on the floor.

'But he wouldn't need it on him of course.' Harry thought. 'He's the one who designed the protections.'

Luna was behind him now, picking up Mckennon's various implements of war and eyeing them curiously.

"Luna, did Madam Pomfrey say how long it's going to take to heal Mckennon?"

"Yes."

Harry looked at her expectantly but she just stared at him with one eye through the open space of the cross guard of one of Mckennon's strange looking daggers.

"_When Luna?"_ He asked impatiently in a growl, tearing the dagger from her grasp.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, looking up at him in surprise but strangely not in fear. "I believe she said at least a few weeks but maybe more. It all depends."

"All depends on what?" Harry was quickly becoming frustrated with the odd girl.

"On how fast Professor Snape makes the potions of course. "

"Fuckin great!" Harry tossed the curved and rune scripted dagger back in the pile where it clattered noisily. Harry's opinion towards his professor had changed somewhat since his help in Harry's escape from Voldemort's dungeons, but he still did not consider the man very reliable.

"You could just stay here, you know." Luna's voice was soft. Harry detected loneliness in it and was moved by a sudden pity.

"I'm sorry Luna I can't. And I think after last night that you know exactly why."

"I know. And I understand why you don't want me to come with you, I'd just be a hindrance." Luna was sitting on her bed, her head down and her left foot tracing circles on the tile. Harry stood over her, half turned to walk away. He actually hadn't even thought of bringing the girl, but now realized she was right, she would be a hindrance.

"I'm not even sure yet where I'm going. And it wouldn't be safe for you either, what if I lose control and kill you?"

She just looked up at him with her wide eyes full of sadness.

"Don't look at me like that." She didn't look away, and Harry found himself unable to break the stare, his resolve rapidly deteriorating.

"Ugh fine you can come! Christ. "

Luna's face took a drastic change from miserable to joyous and her mouth curved into a bright smile. She jumped off the bed and seized Harry in a hug.

"Don't hug me please." He awkwardly tried to pull the girl off of him.

"But you're like a big teddy bear!"

Harry let out a groan of annoyance. "I'm starting to rethink my decision Luna."

She quickly let go of him, her hands dropping to her sides.

"Cmon' get on the broom. We need to leave before Dumbledore and Pomfrey come back.

She did as told, and they hurriedly sped off across the grounds. Just in time, it appeared, for as soon as they reached the gates and disapparated the doors of the hospital wing were thrown open and in strode the Headmaster who stared at the open window in shock.

* * *

"We're in London!" Luna exclaimed. She recognized the area from when they had flown to the Ministry of Magic on the backs of thestrals a few months ago. It was her favorite memory.

"Shh!" Harry pulled her further into the alleyway, and waved his wand, transfiguring her hospital gown into muggle jeans and a blouse and her slippers into trainers.

"These are boring." She pouted, her hands on her hips. Harry rolled his eyes and flicked his wand again, changing the blouse from green to tie dye.

"Happy?"

"I suppose."

"Well you'll have to deal with it until we get to diagon. Then you can buy the most bizarre robes you want." Harry pulled his robes off and stowed them in his bottomless bag. It wouldn't do to stand out in the muggle world. He could've apparated closer to the leaky cauldron or in the alley itself but he wanted to try to avoid being seen by anyone who would recognize him since his changes. There wasn't a huge list but on it were Shacklebolt and Tonks who he knew had to patrol the alley occasionally.

Luna's eyes lit up from his suggestion and she eagerly followed him as they made their way to Charing Cross road. Finally after a lengthy walk the only thing that separated them from the wizarding pub was a street of busy traffic. Luna made to move forward as the traffic stilled but Harry grabbed her arm and jerked her back. He was staring heavily, looking for any distortions in the empty air in front of the pub.

"Hold on, I want to make sure it's clear. If this works we're going to have to make a run for it. _Accio invisibility cloaks!" _There was a shout of alarm as a shimmering length of cloth sailed towards them to reveal Kingsley's shining bald head.

Harry cursed and sprinted into the alley they had just come out of. Luna whose arm he was still clinging to was jerked roughly along behind them. They both heard a cacophony of angered shouts, sharp automobile horns and the screech of breaks as Shacklebolt tried to run across the street just as the traffic was starting again.

"Up the ladder Luna!" Harry yelled. He aimed his wand carefully and blew the door open on the balcony it led to. Hopefully no one had taken up residence since he had evacuated the apartment. Luna hesitated so Harry grabbed her around the waist and tossed her upwards. Screaming in shock or in entertainment, he couldn't really tell, Luna grabbed hold of the rusty metal and scrambled up the ladder and through the crudely opened doorway.

Just as she cleared it black ropes shot down the alleyway followed by the tall form of the fierce auror.

Harry flicked his wand and the ropes dissolved into smoke only to reform into a flock of ravens that flew towards the tall man's head.

As kingsley urgently tried to get rid of the birds swarming him Harry twisted his wand down sharply. The ladder Luna had just climbed up was ripped off its wall. Bolts ricocheted around the alleyway, and metal groaned as the ladder twisted around the distracted auror and brought him to the ground with a loud crash. Another flick of his wand and the ravens disappeared.

"Damn it!" Kingsley cursed as he struggled, wriggling against the iron imprisoning him. But with his hands pinned there was no way he could move his wand to cast any spell.

"Kingsley I really don't want to kill you but I'm going to have to if you keep trying to bring me to Dumbledore." It was a half lie. Part of him wanted very much to tear the man apart.

Harry looked down at Shacklebolt. His scalp had been cut by the birds' beaks and talons and the blood that now dripped from it matched the color of his auror's robes. His white teeth were gritted in frustration and his hands twisted, desperately trying to move his wand.

Kingsley gave up struggling and his whole body seemed to sag. "Look Harry I'm grateful to you, I really am. If not for your vision Tonks and I would be soulless right now, but you really need to come back to Hogwarts. It's not safe for you out here, and Dumbledore can protect you. Please Harry." Shacklebolt's eyes were not angry as Harry expected, but pleading.

"Protect me?" Harry laughed harshly, kneeling next to Kingsley's head and staring into his eyes. Kingsley flinched at the strange, crazed look in Harry's.

"Tell me, _Auror Shacklebolt_. How many deatheaters have you killed this summer?" As Harry spoke his wand tapped against Kingsley's skull, healing the cuts and vanishing the blood.

"What is it to you?"

"Just tell me."

"Five alright? I've killed five." Shacklebolt's voice was angry and twisted his head away so as not to look at Harry.

"Five?" Harry laughed again, but this time much longer and Kingsley could hear the insanity in it.

"What?" He asked, Bewildered

"Wanna know how many I've killed?" Harry's voice was low now but his mouth twisted in a wide smile, his teeth gleaming. Shacklebolt felt a twinge of fear in his guts at seeing their cruel points but he raised his head looked up at Harry. The auror's face was wary but he nooded slowly.

"HUNDREDS! Hundreds you fucking stupid bastard!" Shacklebolt jerked back as spit flew in his face. Harry's voice was half growl half yell now and his face was close to Kingsleys. So close, too close; he could feel Harry's hot breath on his skin as Harry seemed to pant with rage.

"Hundreds I've killed since the start of the summer. And you know what I did to their snake faced cunt of a leader? I sent him so far into the depths of a lake that it will take him a week to find his way out if he hasn't drowned. And you want to fucking protect me? Looking at this situation I think you need the protecting a little more than me, don't you?"

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"Voldemort hasn't drowned, nor is he still in a lake. While you were dozing in the hospital wing, he and his followers attacked several muggle and wizarding locations, and now he has vampires with him. Vampires who's numbers are increasing with every rural muggle village he gives them."

Letting out a yell of frustration Harry stood up and punched the brick wall next to him.

"Why can't he just fucking die?" Rubble fell from the wall and showered noisily on the cobbled floor of the alleyway.

"He's not a man anymore Harry. You can't kill him like one."

"I know that. But I still don't get it. I ruined his ritual in a way that should have destroyed him or at the very least taken away his magic. It left him a little worse for wear but with his magic still very much intact. Then I buried him under tons of water; trapped him with every vestige of power within me and the sodding lake itself. With any other wizard an enchantment like that would have held for a lifetime.''

"I can't give you any answers Harry. We all know he's traveled down paths better left unexplored. Dumbledore is probably the only person who could give you any information."

Harry's face darkened but he bit back the reply that came to his mind. "I suppose if I free you, you won't try to capture me again?"

Shacklebolt sighed. " I guess not. But Harry, do you really think it wise staying at a place Voldemort knows you lived?"

"When you come back here with Dumbledore you won't be able to find it. I've learned to take better precautions, trust me." Harry flicked his wand and the ladder raddled, twisting away from Shacklebolt and into its proper shape, crashing back into place. Another flick had the bolts scattered about the alleyway zooming back, each clanging into their spots.

Shacklebolt smirked, getting to his feet and dusting off his robes. "I assume though that your owl will be able to find you should we send her?"

"Hedwig! Shit I keep forgetting about her. That would be great, thanks. But just so you know she won't lead you to me, she's smarter than that."

"I suppose she is. Try and keep in touch though Harry. Whether you want to believe it or not Dumbledore really does care about you and is just trying to keep your best interests in mind. The rest of us worry about you a great deal too."

"You shouldn't. I can take care of myself."

"As I've just learned." Kingsley turned around but looked back over his shoulder. "And Harry?"

"Ya?"

"Be careful. I don't what you've done to yourself, with the tattoos and all, but you don't want to become what you're fighting." Kingsleys eyes had a haunted gleam in them and he stared hard at Harry before disappearing in a whisp of smoke.

"I'm afraid it might be too late." Harry said to the empty alleyway before hoisting himself up the ladder.

* * *

"Ah, Severus! Fashionably late as usual I see." Aforementioned potions master scowled as he strode into the Hospital Wing, steaming goblet in hand. The wing was a little more crowded than useal with several occupied chairs gathered around Mckennon's bed. It seemed the Order of the Phoenix was having an impromptu meeting. The man himself still lay comatose, hands folded eerily on his still chest. No breathe came out of the pallid lips.

"As you know this particular brew requires a close eye and unbroken concentration. It's been in the last stages for several hours. Besides, I had no knowledge of this quaint little gathering I seem to be late to."

"Oh do lighten up, I was only joking my dear boy." Dumbledore sat to the left of Mckennon's bed. There was a weariness in his face but a light in his eyes and a perkiness in his beard that had been absent the past few months. His blackened hand was cradled in his lap over his dark green robes but he didn't seem to be paying it any attention.

"Albus you know he doesn't care for your jokes." Minerva was sitting next to him. Reading some report with a frown on her face. Whatever happiness seen in Dumbledore didn't seem to be contagious. The old witch looked tired and her usual neatness in a state of disarray. Her hair was barely in its normal bun, sticking out all over the place, and her gray robes were wrinkled instead of being pressed to perfection. The lines of age on her face were more pronounced than ever and she could feel every one of her years.

"Quite right Minerva. I've always found my humor unappreciated as far as Severus is concerned."

Severus ignored the Headmaster but strode towards the bed.

"If you'll excuse me." A depressed looking Tonks pushed her chair back. Severus flicked his wand and Mckennon's body rose to a sitting position, his head tilted back and his mouth opened. Long fingers carefully held the goblet as the contents were tipped into Mckennon's throat. Snape had to be careful not a drop escaped.

Mad Eye watched disapprovingly as he stood against the far wall near the doors. He trusted Snape even less than he trusted Lupin who was watching the proceedings with curiosity.

"What potion is it?" The werewolf asked.

"One that I am quite sure is beyond your knowledge or comprehension. Just because I brew your damn potions so you don't turn into a bloody rampaging beast doesn't mean I'm going to answer every pointless question that miraculously forms in the stagnant vapors of your thick skull."

Lupin glared but bit his toungue. Arguing with Snape was an exercise in futility. Tonks patted his knee, and did her best to hold back a grin.

"The casualties from last night total four hundred and sixty five altogether; counting of course, the muggles who were turned and taken by the vampires." The report she was reading was the one Shacklebolt had handed her before heading off in search of Harry. The news was meant by a gloomy silence. Not even Snape said anything.

"Things seem to have taken an unfortunate turn of events. When the Weasleys informed me that Harry had gone after Tom and how disturbed they were at his appearance and treatment of Pettigrew I found myself quite panicked and didn't hold much hope for Harry. But after Miss Lovegood informed me of how well his meeting with Tom went I had been hoping he would be laying low for awhile. I should have known better." Dumbledore was frowning and stroking his beard, his eyes lowered. He would have liked to have gotten better information about how Harry dueled from Mckennon but the man had collapsed as soon as he had dismounted from his broom. Making sense of Luna's strange descriptions had been troublesome. The picture they painted was quite fantastic but he had no way to verify it. Legilimency was useless on the girl. When he had tried her mind was going in so many directions at once that it was impossible to find the one he wanted, and her perception of reality was so different that it was like trying to read a language he didn't understand.

"I think we should proceed with the protections plan. Starting with miss Granger's house. Even though from all accounts it's most likely she's with Mr. Potter, her parents are still there, and quite defenseless." Minerva interrupted his reflections

"Yes yes of course. We'll go ahead with that today. Nymphadora dear, would you go gather the teams up after this meeting is adjourned?" Tonks glared at the use of her first name but got up and walked towards the doors, accompanied by Minerva. A strange pendant in the shape of a bird swung on the auror's neck as she moved.

"So Harry has Luna and Hermione with him now? That seems irresponsible of him, I doubt they can protect themselves like he's apparently learned to." Lupin sounded somewhat angry.

"I don't believe he took either of the girls willingly. Harry has never been one to put others in danger. Quite the contrary he'd rather put himself in danger for others first. One of the boy's many endearing traits."

Snape snorted. "So I presume wantonly killing deatheaters is another one of those traits?" The potions master was sick of Dumbledore going back and forth on the subject of Harry's morality. He knew the only reason the old man was currently pleased with the boy was because he actually defeated Voldemort in a duel. Which was a fact that had greatly surprised and disturbed Severus. It was a feat only Dumbledore had ever achieved and with how dark Potter had become over the summer he wasn't sure it was a good thing for him to be so powerful. They might destroy one dark lord only to have him replaced with another and Severus wasn't sure his pride could handle serving Potter.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. Potter's got tha right idea. If you'd be taking a few out once in awhile instead of just lurkin around and kissing the snake faced bastard's arse we'd probably be further along!" Madeye thumped his staff on the ground, his magical eye spinning.

"Yes because I didn't almost lose my cover when I had to "take a few out" rescuing the boy from the depths of the Dark Lord's dungeons." Severus bit back.

"Now now my friends, we must not fight amongst ourselves." Lupin bit back a chuckle at the line Dumbledore must have just repeated for the thousandth time.

"I have better things to do than to argue with senile old aurors and half witted half breeds. If you'll excuse me." Snape pushed his way past a glaring Moody and made his way out of the hospital wing, his robes swirling behind him and his boots clacking on the floor.

* * *

"Luna! Where are you?" Harry stomped his way through the apartment looking for the girl. None of the lights were on and he flipped the switches as he walked by. Hearing giggling to his left he walked towards his room. From the open doorway he saw Luna standing on a chair next to his bed on her tiptoes, looking at something on the top of the bookcase.

"Er, what are you doing?"

"Watching the nargles Harry! This place has lots of them!"

Amused Harry pulled another chair over and stood up beside her only to curse in alarm and grab Luna's hand.

"Don't fucking touch that!" Her fingertips were centimeters from a small glowing blue orb of magic. Luna drew her hand back, scared by the panic in Harry's tone.

"It's just a nargle Harry, they don't bite."

"It's not a fucking nargle Luna. It's a security orb. It records everything it sees and explodes if touched or if another wizard tries to dispel it."

"Oh." The girl said, watching it nervously now.

"Mckennon taught me how to create them, it's advanced magic. But whoever made this one knows we're here. We need to find all of them and then set up the fidelius spell as quickly as possible. Blue ones record visual information and red ones auditory so the good thing is it can't hear us."

Harry began waving his wand and muttering. The orb pulsated and turned purple before settling back into the swirling bluish color.

"What'd you do?"

"I erased it's footage of you and looped the feed back to several days ago. If it was connected to the watcher it'd be pulsating constantly so whoever it is didn't see you."

"That's good isn't it?"

"Yes. Now show me the other ones."

It was late before Harry had found all of the many orbs hidden throughout the apartment and had finished the Fidelius Charm which required lot's of preparation, a long chant, complex wand motions and a lot of magical energy. He had made Luna the secret keeper, which she was very proud of. He would've rather made himself it but the caster couldn't be both because of some strange law of magical theory.

"Can we go get my robes now?"

"Luna it's like 2 a.m. I don't think the stores in Diagon are open."

"Oh, I suppose you're right." She frowned. "Can we go tomorrow?"

"Yes whatever Luna, we can fucking go get your robes tomorrow. I'm tired as hell so I'm going to sleep. Do whatever the fuck you want."

"Alright!"

* * *

The underground halls were dark, the lights dimmed as they always were at night and there was a soft echo as light feet padded through them. Hermione wasn't sure how long it'd been since she'd been sitting in Harry's room waiting for him to return with some kind of explanation. At first she had kept herself busy in the library trying to convince herself that maybe Mckennon had set up some kind of strange training exercise for him, but there was no way they'd be gone this long. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and had gotten up to find Dudley, who hadn't been in the kitchen or the living room. That left only one place. As she neared the gym she heard the heavy thuds and the clinking of chain as Dudley's large fists crashed repeatedly into one of the punching bags. She nudged the iron door open and light flooded out into the dark hallway.

"Dudley?"

He didn't seem to hear her and moved closer, repeating his name. The boy spun around, his fist raised like he was going to hit her, before realizing who it was and dropping his hand. He caught the swinging bag and held it still, leaning against it and panting.

"Are you alright?"

"Ya I'm fine. You?" He managed in between breaths. The question provoked a large sob from Hermione and she hugged Dudley, not paying attention to how sweaty he was.

"He's not coming back is he?"

"I don't know Hermione. But I'm sure he's alright." He patted her back awkwardly.

"How do you know that?"

"Well I mean that one auror with the blue hair knows where we are, so if Mckennon or Harry were dead don't you think she would have come told us?"

"Oh. I didn't think of Tonks. You're right Dudley!" She smiled and let go of him. He grinned back at her.

"What I don't get is why Harry didn't tell us where he was going." Dudley frowned

"Harry's like that. He probably thought we might try to come after him." Hermione sat down on a workout bench and Dudley sat next to her.

"I really hope he comes back though. And he said he was done with that ritual for me, I was actually getting kind of excited about it."

"Oh you mean the one that was supposed to let you use magic?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "I know he's finished with it because the papers and diagrams are all stacked on his desk, and he even wrote this really long essay explaining the theory behind it, but I'm sorry Dudley. I just don't think it's possible."

"I didn't think magic was possible until that big giant with the bushy beard gave me a pig's tail." Dudley shuddered at the memory.

Hermione laughed and he glared at her.

"Sorry, it's just imagining Hagrid doing something like that is incredibly amusing."

"Whatever. Did you read the essay?

"No… Everytime I started to it reminded me of Harry and I had to stop." Dudley patted her arm

"Let's read it together and then maybe you can help me do it. I got really good at drawing those weird symbols for Harry's ritual."

"Alright Dudley. I guess we don't have anything else to do down here. "

The essay on Harry's desk was actually about 20 pages of parchment and by the time Hermione made it to the 3rd page she was quickly becoming more and more impressed. First of all Harry had actually made an attempt to write neatly but more importantly he was exploring areas of magic she hadn't even thought of and seemed to have a perfect understanding of them. Really she was starting to feel somewhat jealous but at least she was learning something.

"Are you almost done yet?" Dudley was sitting on Harry's bed looking at the diagrams. Apparently them reading it together meant him annoying her while she read it.

"No Dudley. It's not going to be for awhile."

"You know you're going to have to learn how to draw some of these right?"

"Yes I know Dudley. Now be quiet so I can read this."

* * *

"Ah, I'm fortunate in having a potions master in my service. " The Dark Lord sighed. Snape was rubbing a poultice into his burnt arm. The flames in the fireplace flickered, briefly illuminating a man standing in the shadows of the corner of the room. A cloak was wrapped around his lithe form, the hood pulled low over his eyes so all that was visible was a mouth and a pale angular chin.

"Janus I see you've arrived." Snape spun around having not heard the man enter the room which was unusual.

"Yes. Everything is prepared just as you asked. My people are ready and waiting." The man had a Romanian accent, but spoke English clearly.

"Good, good. Did you have any problems acquiring the girl?"

The mouth smiled, the lips opening, and Severus saw two long, sharp and glisteningly white fangs stained red at the tips with blood. He shuddered.

"No problems. Her guardians put up quite the struggle but it was enjoyable. "

Voldemort smirked. "I'm glad you had your fun. I would have rather used the Weasley girl but that path is now lost to us. The Bones family though is just as much our enemies are they not Severus?"

"They are my lord." Severus kept his head down as he rubbed the poultice so the Dark Lord wouldn't see how disgusted he was at the thought of sacrificing a girl he had been teaching for five years.

"Oh come now Severus, Janus isn't going to bite you. In fact he may even think you're one of his own." Voldemort laughed to himself, a high disconcerting sound.

"All he is missing is the fangs." Apparently even dark lords and vampires weren't above making jokes at Snape's expense.

"My Lord what exactly are we preparing for?"

"I still want the boy, Severus. This time though his arrival won't be unexpected. It might interest you to know that my time with the hit wizard wasn't completely a waste."

Snape looked up at the Dark Lord questioningly, surprise in his eyes.

"I managed to discover that he had been keeping Potter, his mudblood wench, and his filthy muggle cousin in an underground lair, and I know exactly where it is and how to get there. "

"We're going to capture Granger and the Dursley boy and use them as bait?"

"Yes. When I have them, Potter will come to me willingly, to save them of course but his efforts will be futile. However it will take much force to break through the enchantments and the creatures guarding the place. With the addition's of Janus's proud people we have quite some force to spare, which is good because I'm certain at least some of the order if not Dumbledore himself know of the place and will know if we attack it. We'll need a diversion."

"How do you know Potter isn't there?"

"Because I suddenly can't recall where the apartment he was staying at is located. The boy went back there and set up a fidelius, I'm sure of it. The orbs I had my men set up show nothing but he must have found them and tampered with them. It's likely the hit wizard taught him all kinds of new tricks."

"Do you really believe Potter capable of the Fidelius?" Snape sounded doubtful.

"_Crucio." _Voldemort incanted lazily. Janus watched silently in interest as Snape fell to his knees but didn't make a sound, his head twitching.

"It is good you are firm with him. Even good servants need reminders sometimes no?"

"I had thought this one had learned to keep his tongue still but apparently he's beginning to have a hard time differentiating me from the lenient old fool he pretends to serve." Voldemort flicked his wand and the curse ended. Snape got shakily to his feet, his sallow face even paler.

"You haven't seen what I've seen my dear Severus. The boy wielded powerful magic I've never before encountered. Magic so ancient even I did not recognize it. Don't let your animosity for Potter blind you to what he's become or you'll end up dead like many of my deatheaters have recently."

"Yes Master. It won't happen again." Snape said in a monotone, still slightly shaky from the curse.

"Now as for the distraction, I'm having you lead a force into Diagon Alley. Normally leading would be Lucius's forte but he's quite incapable of doing so from his cell. That however will soon be remedied." Snape glanced towards Janus who was grinning.

"You're sending the vampires to Azkaban?"

"My people are good at not being detected. We shall penetrate the fortress in the cover of blessed night and drain the delicious life blood of the auror guards. Then we will leave their lifeless husks and return the prisoners to the Dark Lord." It sounded to Snape like the Dark Lord was going to have all of his forces dispersed at once, something he hadn't done even in the last war. Janus must have a lot of men for the Dark Lord to take a risk like this.

"I am going to lead the raid on Mckennon's little hide out myself. And yes Severus my forces will be spread thin, but the Ministry's and the Order's even thinner. The Order is a small band as it is, merely a thorn in my side, and more than half the ministry is under my control." There was a rustling noise as Nagini awoke from where she had been slumbering next to Voldemort's chair. He held his hand out and she slithered up his arm to take her place around his shoulders, her dark green scales blending with the pitch black of his robes but contrasting sharply with his alabaster flesh. That is, where it wasn't covered with the orange burn poultice.

"How many men will I be taking into Diagon?" Snape felt uneasy with Nagini looking directly into his eyes, her tounge flicking in and out, and Janus's eyes boring into the back of his neck.

"No more than a hundred. All of this though will have to wait." The Dark Lord got up from his chair and strode over to the mirror that hung on the wall of the Malfoy's study. Nagini let out a soft hiss at the sudden movement. He stared into his own crimson eyes and stroked a hand over his charred face. "I was tired already of this imperfect form before Potter ruined it. And I'm going to need a more… human one for my future plans. Yes the attacks are going to have to wait until I have my new body, which shall be soon enough."

* * *

An: Hey guys I'm really sorry it's been so long. My laptop got completely fucked up and I just bought a new one. I'm also sorry this chapter is kind of short but I figured I should put something up now to show I'm not dead. This is more of a transition chapter anyway. The next one should be up tomorrow, but if not it definitely will be sometime this week. It will be much longer than this one and have a lot of action. Again, sorry for the lateness. Oh ya and the grammar/spelling because I haven't had a beta since the first few chapters. If anyone wants to volunteer for the position feel free to.


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